^ 


o^  ot  o^  i;a.  <^^  i^  12^ 

Of'  TUE 
AT 

PRINCETON,   N.  J. 
SAMUEL   AGNE^V, 

OF  PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

q4^o -  . 


■<^' 


BV  4501  .W35  1831 
Ware,  Henry,  1794-1843. 
On  the  formation  of  the 
Christian  character 


FOR  M  Alio  N 


OP  THE 


CHRISTIAN    CHARACTER. 

Price  2s.  Gd.  Boards. 


ON    TIIS 


FORMATION 

OF  THE 

CHRISTIAN   CHARACTER, 

ADDRESSED 

TO  THOSE  WHO  ARE  SEEKING  TO  LEAD 
A  RELIGIOUS  LIFE. 


T^ 


By  HENRY  WARE,  Jr. 

Professor  of  Pulpit  Eloquence  and  the  Pastoral  Care 
in  Harvard  University. 


Printed  from  the  American  Edition, 


LIVERPOOL: 

Printed  and  Sold  by  F.  B.  Wright. 

LONDON: 

Sold  by  R.  Hunter,  St.  Paul's  Church  Yard ;  S.  Teulon, 

67,  Whitechapel ;  Pox,  67,    Paternoster   Row ; 

J.  Mardon,  30,  Jewin  Crescent,  Aldersgate 

street ;  T.  Forrest,  iNIanchester,  and  the 

Booksellers  in  general. 

1831. 


PREFACE. 


In  presenting  to  the  religious  public  this  little 
book,  the  writer  has  only  to  say,  that  he  under- 
took it  because  he  thought  that  a  work  of  this  cha- 
racter was  needed  and  would  be  welcome.  During 
his  active  ministry  he  had  often  felt  the  want  of 
a  book  on  personal  religion,  different,  in  some  re- 
spects, from  any  which  had  fallen  in  his  way  ;  and 
when  compelled  by  ill  health  to  relinquish  his 
pastoral  cares,  he  attempted  to  beguile  some  of 
the  languid  hours  of  a  weary  convalescence  by  ef- 
forts at  composing  such  an  one.  The  result  has 
come  very  far  short  of  the  idea  which  he  had 
formed  in  his  mind.  The  book  was  written  at 
distant  and  uncertain  intervals,  upon  journeys 
and  in  public  houses,  and  has  been  now  revised 
for  the  press  in  the  midst  of  other  cares,  which 
iiave  allowed  no  time  for  giving  it  the  complete- 


VI. 

ness  he  desired.  Yet,  as  it  belongs  to  a  class  of 
writings,  of  whose  importance  he  has  the  highest 
sense,  and  the  multiplication  of  which,  as  well  as 
the  increase  of  a  taste  for  their  perusal,  he  es- 
teems in  the  highest  measure  desirable  ; — he  ven- 
tures to  hope  that  this  slight  effort  will  not  be 
wholly  lost ;  and  that  it  may  at  least  do  some- 
thing towards  exciting  others  to  a  preparation  of 
more  efficient  works,  which  shall  nourish  the  spirit 
of  devotion,  and  extend  the  power  of  practical 
faith. 

Cambridge,  May  16,  1831. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION,  1 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Nature  of  Religion,  and  -what  we  are  to  seek  — ^Reli- 
gion described — exemplified  in  the  chantcter  of  Christ 
— an  arduous  attainment — caution  against  low  views..       4 

CHAPTER  II. 
Our  power  to  obtain  that  which  we  seek. — The  capacity 
for  religion  in  human  nature — education — the  natural 
and  the  spiritual  life — man's  ability  to  do  the  will  of 
God — false  humility — salvation  by  grace 14 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  State  of  Blind  in  which  the  Inquirer  should  sustain 
himself. — Sense  of  unworthiness — anxiety  of  mind — 
rules  to  be  observed  respecting  retirement,  conversation, 
public  meetings :i^(3 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  INIeans  of  Religious  Improvement , . . . .     37 

I.  Reading. — Duty  of  seeking  religious  knowledge — its 
advantages — time  to  be  given  to  it — the  Bible — to  be 
read  for  instruction  in  truth — for  self- application — se- 
lection of  other  books 3/ 

II.  Bleditation. — Its  object — habitual  thoughtfulness — 
seasons  of  meditation — enjoyment  to  be  expected  in 
them — caution — three  purposes  to  be  answered .55 

III.  Prayer. — Its  necessity  and  value — importance  of  set 
times — method  to  be  observed — subjects — posture — lan- 
guage— frequency  and  brevity — ejaculatory  prayer — 
faith,  fervor,  perseverance — answers  to  prayer — topics 

— in  the  name  of  Christ — caution — spirit  of  devotion . .     67 


Vlll 

IV.  Preaching. — A  divine  institution — necessity  of  pre- 
paration for  hearing — a  critical  disposition — reflection 
on  what  has  heen  heard — on  keeping  a  record  of  ser- 
mons— ^weakness  of  memory — a  taste  for  preaching  to  he 
preserved 96 

V.  The  Lord's  Supper. — Its  ohject  twofold,  profession  of 
faith,  and  means  of  improvement — who  to  partake,  and 
when — an  affecting  and  comprehensive  rite — an  oppor- 
tunity for  silent  worship — conclusion 110 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Religious  Discipline  of  Life. — The  means  of  religion 
not  to  he  mistaken  for  the  end — watchfulness — daily  du- 
ties and  trials — discipline  of  the  thoughts,  dispositions, 
passions,  appetites — conversation — ordinary  deportment 
— guard  to  be  kept  over  the  principles — and  over  the 
habits    120 


INTRODUCTION. 


I  AM  anxious  to  bespeak  the  reader's  right  at- 
tention before  he  enters  on  the  following  pages. 
They  have  been  written  only  for  those  who  are 
sincerely  desirous  of  knowing  themselves,  and  are 
bent  upon  forming  a  religious  character.  They 
can  be  of  little  interest  or  value  to  any  other  per- 
son, or  if  read  with  any  other  view  than  that  of 
self-improvement.  I  venture  therefore  to  entreat 
everyone,  into  whose  hands  the  book  may  fall,  to 
peruse  it,  as  it  has  been  written,  not  for  enter- 
tainment, but  for  moral  edification ;  to  read  it  at 
those  seasons  when  he  is  seriously  disposed,  and 
can  reflect  upon  the  important  topics  presented  to 
his  view.  I  am  solicitous  to  aid  him  in  the  forma- 
tion of  his  Christian  character,  and  about  every 
other  result  I  am  indifferent. 

I  would  even  presume,  further,  to  warn  one 
class  of  readers,  and  that  not  a  small  one,  against 
a  danger  which  lurks  even  in  their  established 
respect  for  religion.  That  general  regard  for  it, 
which  grows  out  of  the  circumstances  of  educa- 

B 


tion  and  the  habits  of  society,  may  be  mistaken 
for  a  religious  state  of  mind  ;  yet  it  is  perfectly 
consistent  with  religious  indifference.  A  man 
may  sincerely  honor,  advocate,  and  uphold  the  re- 
ligion of  Christ  on  account  of  its  general  influence, 
its  beneficial  public  tendency,  its  humane  and 
civilizing  consequences,  without  at  all  subjecting 
his  owM  temper  and  life  to  its  laws,  or  being  in 
any  proper  sense  a  subject  of  the  peculiar  happi- 
ness it  imparts.  This  is  perhaps  not  an  infre- 
quent case.  Men  need  to  be  made  sensible  that 
religion  is  a  personal  thing,  a  matter  of  personal 
application  and  experience.  Unless  it  is  so  con- 
sidered, it  will  scarcely  be  an  object  of  earnest 
pursuit,  or  of  fervent,  hearty  interest,  nor  can  it 
exert  its  true  and  thorough  influence  on  the  char- 
acter. Indeed,  its  desirable  influence  upon  the 
state  of  society  can  be  gained  only  through  this 
deep  personal  devotion  to  it  of  individuals ;  be- 
cause none  but  this  is  genuine  religion,  and  the 
genuine  only  can  exhibit  the  genuine  power. 

I  know  of  nothing  to  be  more  earnestly  desired, 
than  that  men  should  cease  to  look  upon  religion 
as  designed  for  others,  and  should  come  to  regard 
it  as  primarily  affecting  themselves ;  that  they 
should  first  and  most  seriously  study  its  relation 
to  their  own  hearts,  and  be  above  all  things  anxi- 
ous about  their  own  characters.  His  is  but  a  par- 
tial and  unsatisfactory  faith,  which  is  concerned 


wholly  with  the  state  of  society  in  general,  and 
allows  him  to  neglect  the  discipline  of  his  own 
afifections  and  the  culture  of  his  own  spiritual  na- 
ture. He  is  but  poorly  fitted  to  honor  or  promote 
the  cause  of  Christ,  who  has  not  first  subjected 
his  own  soul'  to  his  holy  government.  There 
are  men  enow,  when  Christianity  is  prevalent 
and  honorable,  to  lend  it  their  countenance,  and 
pay  it  external  homage.  We  want  more  thorough, 
consistent  exemplifications.- of  its  purity,  benevo- 
lence, and  spirituality.  These  can  be  found  only 
in  men;  who  love  it  for  its  own  sake,  and  because 
it  is  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation,  and  not  simply  because  it  is  re- 
spectable in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  favorable 
to  the  decency  and  order  of  the  commonwealth. 
It  is  for  those  who  are  seeking  this  end,  and  for 
such  only  that  I  write. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION,  AND  WHAT  WE  ARE 
TO   SEEK. 

In  order  to  the  intelligent  and  successful  pur- 
suit of  any  object,  it  is  necessary,  first  of  all,  to 
hare  a  definite  conception  of  what  we  desire  to 
effect  or  obtain.  This  is  especially  important  in 
the  study  of  Religion,  both  because  of  the  extent 
and  variety  of  the  subject  itself,  and  because  of 
the  very  different  apprehensions  of  men  respect- 
ing it.  Many  are  disheartened  and  fail,  in  con- 
sequence of  setting  out  with  wrong  views  and  false 
expectations.  From  which  cause  religion  itself 
suffers ;  being  made  answerable  for  failures,  which 
are  entirely  owing  to  the  unreasonable  anticipa- 
tions and  ill-directed  efforts  of  those  who  enlisted 
in  her  service,  but  did  not  persevere  in  it. 

Let  us  begin,  then,  with  considering  what  is 
the  object  at  which  we  aim  when  we  seek  a  reli- 
gious character. 

Religion,  in  a  general  sense,  is  founded  on  man's 
relation  and  accountableness  to  his  Maker ;  and 
it  consists  in  cherishing  the  sentiments  and  per- 
forming the  duties  which  thence  result,  and  which 
belong  to  the  other  relations  to  other  beings  which 
God  has  appointed  him  to  sustain. 

Concerning  these  relations,  sentiments,  and  du- 
ties we  are  instructed  in  the  Scriptures,  especially 


in  the  New  Testament.  Religion,  with  us,  is 
the  Christian  religion.  It  is  found  in  the  teach- 
ings and  example  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  consists 
in  the  worship,  the  sentiments,  and  the  character, 
which  he  enjoined,  and  which  he  illustrated  in 
his  own  person. 

What  you  are  to  seek,  therefore,  is,  under  the 
guidance  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  feel  your  relation  to 
God,  and  to  live  under  a  sense  of  responsibility 
to  him  ;  to  cultivate  assiduously  those  sentiments 
and  affections  which  spring  out  of  this  responsible 
and  filial  relation,  as  well  as  those  which  arise 
out  of  your  connexion  with  other  men  as  his  off- 
spring ;  to  perform  all  the  duties  to  Him  and  them 
which  appertain  to  this  character  and  relation ; 
and  to  cherish  that  heavenward  tendency  of  mind 
which  should  spring  from  a  consciousness  of  pos- 
sessing an  immortal  nature.  He  who  does  all 
this  is  a  religious  man ;  or,  in  other  words,  a 
Christian. 

You  desire  to  be  a  christian.  To  this  are 
requisite  three  things  :  belief  in  the  truths  which 
the  gospel  reveals ;  possession  of  the  state  of 
mind  which  it  enjoins :  and  performance  of  the 
duties  which  it  requires.  Or,  I  may  say,  the  sub- 
jection of  the  mind  by  faith,  the  subjection  of  the 
heart  by  love,  the  subjection  of  the  will  by  obedi^ 
ence.  This  universal  submission  of  yourself  to 
God  is  what  you  are  to  aim  at,  This  is  Religion* 
B  2 


'*uPs«<WM«i^H4 


Observe  how  extensive  a  thing  it  is..  It  is  a 
principle  of  the  mind  ;  founded  upon  thought, 
reflection,  inquiry,  argument ;  and  leading  to  de- 
votion and  duty  as  most  reasonable  and  suitable 
for  intelligent  beings. 

It  is  a  sentiment  or  affection  of  the  heart ;  not 
the  cold  action  of  the  intellectual  man  alone,  in 
behalf  of  what  is  right,  but  a  warm,  glowing  feel- 
ing of  preference  and  desire ;  a  feeling,  which 
attaches  itself  in  love  to  the  Father  of  all  and  to 
all  good  beings ;  which  turns  duty  into  inclina- 
tion, and  pursues  virtue  from  impulse ;  which 
prefers  and  delights  in  that  which  is  well  pleasing 
to  God,  and  takes  an  affectionate  interest  in  the 
things  to  which  the  Saviour  devoted  himself. 

It  is  a  rule  of  the  life ;  it  is  the  law  of  God ; 
causing  the  external  conduct  to  correspond  to  the 
principle  which  is  established,  and  the  sentiment 
which  breathes  within ;  bringing  every  action 
into  a  conformity  with  the  divine  will,  and 
making  universal  holiness  the  standard  of  the 
character. 

The  Scriptures  represent  religion  under  each 
of  these  different  views.  As  a  principle,  it  is 
called  Faith ;  and  in  this  view  is  Faith  extolled 
as  the  essential  thing  for  life  and  salvation.  We 
are  to  '  walk  by  faith. '  We  are  '  saved  by  faith.' — 
As  a  sentiment,  it  is  styled  Love.  Love  to  God 
and  man  is  declared  by  the  Saviour  to  be  the  sub- 


stance  of  religion;  and  tlie  Apostles,  especially 
John  and  Paul,  every  where  represent  this  uni_ 
versal  aflection  as  the  essence  and  the  beauty  of 
the  Christian  character.  No  one  can  read  their 
language,  and  compaix  with  it  the  life  of  Christ, 
without  perceiving  how  essentially  true  religion 
is  a  sentiment. — As  a  law  or  rule,  it  is  spoken  of 
throughout  the  Scriptures.  It  is  a  commandment 
of  God,  requiring  obedience.  We  are  '  to  do  his 
will.  *  Christ  is  the  *  author  of  salvation  to  those 
that  obey  him. '  *  If  thou  wilt  enter  into  life, 
keep  the  commandments. '  •  He  who  keepeth  my 
commandments,  he  it  is  that  loveth  me.' 

In  the  general  complexion  of  Scripture,  and  in 
many  particular  passages,  these  several  views  are 
united  and  blended  together:  thus  we  are  told, 
that  *  the  fruit  of  the  spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace, 
longsuffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meek- 
ness, temperance';  that  the  blessing  of  God  be- 
longs to  the  humble,  penitent,  meek,  pure  in 
heart,  merciful,  and  peaceful ;  that  the  Christian 
character  consists  in  *  whatsoever  is  true,  honest, 
just,  pure,  lovely,  and  of  good  report ' ;  in  adding 
to  *  faith,  virtue,  knowledge,  temperance,  pati- 
ence, godliness,  brotherly  kindness,  and  charity '; 
and  '  in  denying  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts, 
and  living  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly. 


>  * 


*  Gal.  V.  22,  23.— Matthew,   v.   3,   9,— Pbilip.  iv.    8.— 
2  Peter,  i,  6,  7.— Titus,  ii.  12. 


8 

You  see  then  what  is  the  character  of  the  re-  . 
iigion  which  you  are  seeking.  You  perceive  that 
it  implies  the  absolute  supremacy  of  the  soul  aniP 
its  interests,  overall  the  objects  and  interests  of 
the  present  state  ;  and  that  its  primary  character- 
istic is  a  certain  state  of  mind  and  affections.  It 
is  not  the  external  conduct,  not  the  observance  of 
the  moral  law  alone,  which  constitutes  a  religious 
man  ;  but  the  principles  from  which  he  acts,  the 
motives  by  which  he  is  governed,  the  state  of  his 
heart.  A  principle  of  spiritual  life  pervades  his 
intellectual  nature,  gives  a  complexion  to  his 
whole  temper,  and  is  the  spring  of  that  moral 
worth,  which  is  in  other  men  the  result  of  educa- 
tion, circumstances,  or  interest.  He  is  actuated 
by  a  prevailing  sense  of  God,  and  the  desire  of  a 
growing  resemblance  to  his  moral  image.  He  is 
possessed  with  the  perpetual  consciousness  of  his 
immortality;  and  is  not  ashamed  to  deny  himself 
any  of  the  gratifications  of  the  present  hour,  when 
thereby  he  may  keep  his  mind  more  disengaged 
for  the  study  of  truth  and  the  contemplation  of  his 
highest  good.  Living  thus  with  his  chief  sources 
of  happiness  within  him,  he  bears  with  equanimi- 
ty the  changes  and  trials  of  earth,  and  tastes 
something  of  the  peculiar  felicity  of  heaven, 
which  is  righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  a 
holy  spirit ;  and,  like  his  master,  who  sojourned 
below,  but  whose  affections  were  above,  he  does 


his  Father's  will  as  he  passes  through  the  world, 
but  has  treasured  up  his  supreme  good  in  his  Fa- 
ther's future  presence. 

But  if  you  would  discern  the  full  excellence 
and  loveliness  of  the  religious  life,  do  not  rest 
satisfied  with  studying  the  law,  or  musing  over 
the  descriptions  of  it.  Go  to  the  perfect  pattern 
which  has  been  set  before  the  believer  for  his 
guidance  and  encouragement.  Look  unto  Jesus, 
the  author  and  finisher  of  your  faith.  In  him  are 
exhibited  all  the  virtues  which  you  are  to  practise, 
all  the  aff*ections  and  graces  which  you  are  to  cul- 
tivate. In  him  is  that  rich  assemblage  of  beauti- 
ful and  attractive  excellences,  which  has  been  the 
admiration  of  all  reflecting  men,  the  astonishment 
and  eulogy  of  eloquent  unbelievers,  and  the  guide, 
consolation,  and  trust  of  faithful  disciples.  In  the 
dignity  and  sweetness  which  characterize  him, 
how  strongly  do  we  feel  that  tjiere  is  much  more 
than  a  display  of  external  qualities,  conformity  to 
a  prescribed  rule,  and  graceful  propriety  of  out- 
ward demeanor.  Nothing  is  more  striking  than 
the  evident  connexion  of  every  thing  which  he 
said  and  did  with  something  internal.  The  sen- 
timent and  disposition  which  reign  within,  are 
constantly  visible  through  his  exterior  deport- 
ment ;  and  we  regard  his  words  and  his  deeds 
less  as  distinct  outward  things,  than  as  expressions 
or  representations  of  character.     As  in  looking 


10 

on  certain  countenances  we  have  no  thought  of 
color,  feature,  or  form,  but  simply  of  the  moral  or 
intellectual  qualities  which  they  suggest;  so,  in 
contemplating  the  life  of  Jesus,  we  find  ourselves 
perpetually  looking  beyond  his  mere  actions,  and 
fixing  our  thoughts  on  the  qualities  which  they 
indicate.  His  life  is  but  the  expressive  coun- 
tenance of  his  soul.  We  feel,  that,  though  in  the 
midst  of  present  things,  he  is  led  by  principles, 
wrapt  in  thoughts,  pervaded  by  sentiments,  which 
are  above  earth,  unearthly  ;  that  he  is  walking  in 
communion  with  another  sphere  ;  and  that  the  ob- 
jects around  him  are  matters  of  interest  to  him, 
no  further  than  as  they  afford  materials  for  the 
exercise  of  his  benevolence,  and  opportunities  for 
doing  his  Father's  will. 

This  is  the  personification  of  religion.  This 
is  the  model  which  you  are  to  imitate.  And  it  is 
when  you  shall  be  imbued  with  this  spirit,  when 
you  shall  be  filled  with  this  sentiment,  when  your 
words,  actions,  and  life  shall  be  only  the  spontane- 
ous expression  of  this  state  of  mind, — it  is  then 
that  you  will  have  attained  the  religious  charac- 
ter, and  become  spiritually  the  child  of  God.  You 
will  have  built  up  the  kingdom  of  God  within 
you  ;  its  purity,  its  devotion,  and  its  peace  will 
be  shed  abroad  in  your  heart,  and  thence  will 
display  themselves  in  the  manners  and  conduct  of 
your  life. 


r" 


11 

To  attain  and  perfect  this  character  is  to  be  the 
object  of  your  desire,  and  the  business  of  your 
life.  You  must  never  lose  sight  of  it.  In  all 
that  you  learn,  think,  feel,  and  do,  you  are  to  have 
reference  to  this  end.  Whatever  tends  to  pro- 
mote this,  you  are  to  cherish  and  favor.  What- 
ever hinders  this,  or  in  any  degree  operates  inju- 
riously upon  it,  you  are  to  discountenance  and 
shun.  All  that  gives  bias  to  your  passions  and 
appetites,  to  your  inclinations  and  thoughts,  to 
your  opinion  of  yourself,  to  your  conduct  toward 
others,  your  private  or  public  employment  of  your 
time,  your  business  and  gains,  your  recreation 
and  pleasures,  is  to  be  judged  of  by  a  reference  te 
this  standard,  and  condemned  or  apptyved  accord- 
ingly. You  are  to  feel  that  nothing  is  of  such  con- 
sequence to  you  as  the  Christian  character ;  that 
to  form  this  is  the  very  work  for  which  you  were 
sent  into  the  world  ;  that  if  this  be  not  done,  you 
do  nothing, — you  had  better  never  have  been 
born ;  for  your  life  is  wasted  without  effecting  its 
object,  and  your  soul  enters  on  eternity  without 
having  secured  its  salvation.  The  provisions  of 
God's  mercy  are  slighted,  and  for  you,  the  Sa- 
viour has  lived  and  died  in  vain. 

It  is  plain  then,  that  the  work  to  which  you  ad- 
dress yourself  is  arduous  as  well  as  delightful.  It 
is  not  to  be  done  in  a  short  time,  nor  by  a  few  in- 
dolent or  violent  efforts ;  not  by  an  excitement  of 


12 

feeling,  nor  by  an  exercise  of  speculative  reason, 
nor  by  an  assent  to  professions,  forms,  and  rites  ; 
not  by  a  love  of  hearing  the  word  preached,  nor 
by  attention  to  the  morals  of  ordinary  life,  nor  by 
steadfastness  in  the  virtues  which  are  easy  and 
pleasant ;-— but  only  by  a  surrender  of  the  whole 
man,  and  the  entire  life  to  the  will  of  God,  in 
faith,  affection,  and  action  ;  by  a  thorough  imita- 
tion of  Jesus  in  the  devout  and  humble  temper  of 
his  mind,  in  the  spirituality  of  his  affections,  and 
in  the  purity  and  loveliness  of  his  conduct.  Any 
thing  less  than  this,  any  partial,  external,  super* 
ficial  conformity  to  a  rule  of  decent  living  or  ritual 
observance,  must  be  wholly  insufficient.  For  it 
cannot  mould  and  rule  the  character,  cannot  an- 
swer the  claims  of  the  Creator  upon  his  creatures, 
nor  prepare  for  the  happiness  which  Jesus  has  re- 
vealed ;  a  happiness  so  described,  and  so  consti- 
tuted, that  none  can  be  fitted  for  it  or  be  capable 
of  enjoying  it,  but  those  who  are  earnestly  and  en- 
tirely conformed  to  the  divine  will.  Who  can 
relish  the  spiritual  pleasures  of  eternity,  that  has 
not  become  spiritually  minded  ?  Who  could  en- 
joy admission  to  the  society  of  Jesus  and  the  spir- 
its of  the  just  made  perfect,  that  is  not  like  them  ? 
Why  should  one  hope  for  heaven,  and  how  ex- 
pect to  be  happy  there,  if  he  have  not  formed  a 
taste  for  its  habits  of  purity,  worship,  and  love  ? 
Be  on  your  guard,  therefore,  from  the  first 


13 

against  setting  your  mark  too  low.     Do  not  allow 
yourself  to  be  persuaded  that  any  thing  less  is 
Religion,   or  will  answer  for  you,  than  its  com- 
plete and  highest  measure.     Remember  that  these 
things  must  be  "  in  you  and  abound."  The  higher 
you  aim,  the  higher  you  will  reach ;  but  if  con- 
tent with  a  low  aim,  you  will  for  ever  fall  short. 
The  scriptural  word  is  Perfection.     Strive  after 
that.     Never  be  satisfied  while  short  of  it,  and 
then  you  will  be  always  improving.     But  if  you 
set  yourself  some  definite  measure  of  goodness,  if 
you  prescribe  to  yourself  some  limit  in  devotion 
and  love,  you  will,   by  and  by,  fancy  you  have 
reached  it,  and  thus  remain  stationary  in  a  con- 
dition far  below  what  you  might  have  attained. 
Remember  always,  that  you  are  capable  of  being 
more  devout,  more  charitable,  more  humble,  more 
devoted  and  earnest  in  doing  good,  better  ac- 
quainted with  religious  truth ;  and  that,  as  it  is 
impossible  there  should  be  any  period  to  the  pro- 
gress of  the  human  soul,  so  it  is  impossible  that 
the  endeavor  of  the   soul  should  be  too  exalted. 
It  is  because  men  do  not  think  of  this,  or  do  not 
practically  apply  it,  that  so  many  even  of  those 
who  intend  to  govern  themselves  by  religious  mo- 
tives, remain  so  lamentably  deficient  in   excel- 
lence.    They  adopt  a   low  or  a  partial  standard, 
and  strive  after  it  sluggishly,  and  thus  come  to  a 
period  in  religion  before  they  arrive  at  the  close 
c 


14. 

of  life.  Happy  they,  who  are  so  filled  with  long* 
ings  after  spiritual  good,  that  they  go  on  improv- 
ing to  the  end  of  their  days. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OUR  POWER  TO  OBTAIN  THAT  WHICH  WE  SEEK. 

The  account  which  has  been  given  of  religion 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  shows  it  to  be  consonant 
to  man's  nature,  and  suited  to  the  faculties  with 
which  God  has  endowed  him.  His  soul  is  formed 
for  religion,  and  the  Gospel  has  been  adapted  to 
the  constitution  of  his  soul.  His  understanding 
takes  cognizance  of  its  truths,  his  conscience  ap- 
plies them,  his  affections  are  capable  of  becoming 
interested  in  them,  and  his  will  of  being  subject 
to  them.  There  can  be  no  moment  of  existence, 
after  he  has  come  to  the  exercise  of  his  rational 
faculties,  at  which  this  is  not  the  case.  As  soon 
as  he  can  love  and  obey  his  parents,  he  can  love 
and  obey  God  ;  and  this  is  religion.  The  capa- 
city of  doing  the  one  is  the  capacity  of  doing  the 
other. 

It  is  true  the  latter  is  not  so  universally  done 
as  the  former  ;  but  the  cause  is  not,  that  religion 
is  unsuited  to  the  young,  but  that  their  attention 
is  engrossed  by  visible  objects  and  present  plea- 


15 

sures.  Occupied  with  these,  it  requires  effort 
and  pains-taking  to  direct  the  mind  to  invisible 
things ;  to  turn  the  attention  from  the  objects 
which  press  them  on  every  side,  to  the  abstract 
spiritual  objects  of  faith.  Hence  it  is  easy  to  see, 
that  the  want  of  early  religion  is  owing  primarily 
to  the  circumstances  in  which  childhood  is  placed, 
and  next  to  remissness  in  education.  Worldly 
things  are  before  the  child's  eye,  and  minister  to 
its  gratification  every  hour  and  every  minute  ; 
but  religious  things  are  presented  to  it  only  in  a 
formal  and  dry  way  once  a  week.  The  things  of 
the  world  are  made  to  constitute  its  pleasures ; 
those  of  religion  are  made  its  tasks.  It  is  made 
to  feel  its  dependence  on  a  parent's  love  every 
hour;  but  is  seldom  reminded  of  its  dependence 
on  God,  and  then  perhaps  only  in  some  stated  les- 
son, which  it  learns  by  compulsion,  and  not  in 
the  midst  of  the  actual  engagements  and  pleasures 
of  its  little  life.  It  partakes  of  the  caresses  of  its 
human  parents,  and  cannot  remember  the  time 
when  it  was  not  an  object  of  their  tenderness ;  so 
that  their  image  is  woven  with  its  very  existence. 
But  God  it  has  never  seen,  and  has  seldom  heard 
of  him  ;  his  name  and  presence  are  banished  from 
common  conversation,  and  inferior  and  visible 
agents  receive  the  gratitude  for  gifts  which  come 
from  him.  So  also  the  parent's  authority  is  im- 
mediate  and  visibly  exercised,   and   obedience 


16 

grows  into  the  rule  and  habit  of  life.     But  that  of 
God  is  not  displayed   in  any  sensible  act  or  de- 
claration ;  it  is  only  heard  of  at  set  times  and  in 
set  tasks,  and  thus  fails  of  becoming  mingled  with 
the  principles  of  conduct,  or  forming  a  rule  and 
habit  of  subjection.  In  a  word ,  let  it  be  considered 
how  little  and  how  infrequently  the  idea  of  God 
is  brought  home  to  the  child^s  mind,  even  under 
the  most  favorable  circumstances,  and  how  little 
is  done  to  make  him  the  object  of  love  and  obedi- 
ence, in  comparison  with  what  is  done  to  unite  its 
affections  to  its  parents;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
the   spirituality  and   invisibility  of  the  Creator 
render  it  necessary  that  even  more  should  be  done; 
— and  it  will  be  seen  that  the  want  of  an  early  and 
spontaneous   growth  of  the  religious  character  is 
not  owing  to  the  want  of  original  capacity  for  re- 
ligion, but  is  to  be  traced  to  the  unpropitious  cir- 
cumstances in  which  childhood  is  passed,  and  the 
want  of  uniform,  earnest,  persevering  instruction. 
I  have   made   this  statement  for  two  reasons. 
First,  because  I  think  it  points  out  the  immense 
importance  of  a  religious  education,  and  is  an  ur- 
gent call  upon  parents  for  greater  diligence  in  this 
duty.  No  parent  will  deliberately  say,  in  excuse 
for  his  neglect,  that  his  children  are  incapable  of 
apprehending  and  performing  their  duty  to  God. 
He  will  perceive  that  the  same  operation  of  cir- 
cumstances and  of  unceasing  influences,  which  haa 


17 

made  them  devoted  to  him,  would  make  them  de- 
voted to  God  ;  and  religion  is  that  state  of  mind 
toward  God,  which  a  good  child  exercises  toward 
a  parent.  It  is  the  same  principle  and  the  same 
affections,  fixing  themselves  on  an  infinitely  high- 
er object.  Let  parents  be  aware  of  this,  and  they 
will  feel  the  call  and  the  encouragement  to  a  more 
systematic  and  affectionate  attention  to  the  reli- 
gious instruction  of  their  children. 

I  have  made  this  statement,  moreover,  because 
it  off'ers  a  guide  to  those  who  have  passed  through 
childhood  without  permanent  religious  impres- 
sions, and  are  now  desirous  of  attaining  them.  It 
is  principally  for  such  that  I  write.  They  maybe 
divided  into  many  classes  ;  some  more  and  some 
lessdistantfrom  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  some  profli- 
gate, some  indiff'erent ;  some  with  much  goodness 
of  outward  performance,  but  with  no  internal 
principle  of  faith  and  piety  ;  and  some  without 
even  external  conformity  to  right.  But  however 
diff'ering  in  their  past  course  of  life,  and  in  the 
peculiar  habits  and  dispositions  which  character- 
ize them,  in  one  thing  they  now  agree, — they  are 
sensible  of  their  errors  and  sins,  and  desire  to  ap- 
ply themselves  to  that  true  and  living  way,  which 
shall  lead  them  to  the  favor  of  God  and  everlast- 
ing life.  They  feel  that  there  is  a  great  work  to 
be  done,  a  great  change  to  be  eff'ected,  either  in- 
ternally, or  externally,  or  both,  and  they  are  de- 
c  2 


sirous  to  learn  in  what  manner  it  shall  be  effected. 
To  such  persons  the  statement  which  I  have 
made  above  may  be  useful.  Let  them  look  back 
to  it,  and  reflect  upon  it.  God  has  given  them 
powers  for  doing  the  work  which  he  has  assigned 
to  them.  That  work  is  expressed  in  one  word,— 
the  comprehensive  name  Religion.  That  work 
they  should  have  begun  and  perseveringly  pur- 
sued from  their  earliest  days.  But  they  have 
done  otherwise.  They  have  wandered  from  duty, 
and  been  unfaithful  to  God.  They  have  gone  far 
from  him,  like  the  unwise  prodigal,  and  wasted 
the  portion  he  gave  them  in  vicious  or  unprofita- 
ble pursuits.  They  have  cultivated  the  animal 
life;  they  have  lived  'according  to  the  flesh.' 
They  need  to  cultivate  the  spiritual  life  ;  to  live 
*  according  to  the  spirit.'  There  is  an  animal  life, 
and  there  is  a  spiritual  life.  Man  is  born  into 
the  first  at  the  birth  of  his  body ;  he  is  born  into 
the  second,  when  he  subjects  himself  to  the  power 
of  religion,  and  prefers  his  rational  and  immortal 
to  his  sensual  nature.  During  his  earliest  days  he 
is  an  animal  only,  pursuing,  like  other  animals, 
the  wants  and  desires  of  his  body,  and  consulting 
his  present  gratification  and  immediate  interest. 
But  it  is  not  designed  that  he  shall  continue  thus. 
He  is  made  for  something  better  and  higher.  He 
has  a  nobler  nature  and  nobler  interests.  He  must 
It  am  to  live  for  these ;  and  this  learning  to  feel  and 


19 

value  his  spiritual  nature  and  to  live  for  eternity  ; 
this  change  from  the  animal  and  earthly  existence 
of  infancy,  to  a  rational,  moral,  spiritual  existence, 
— this  it  is  to  be  born  into  the  spiritual  life.  This 
is  a  renovation  of  principle  and  purpose  through 
which  every  one  must  pass.  Every  one  must  thus 
turn  from  his  natural  devotion  to  things  earthly 
to  a  devotion  to  things  heavenly.  This  change  it  is 
the  object  of  the  gospel  to  effect ;  and  we  seek  no 
less  than  this,  when  we  seek  the  influence  of  the 
gospel  on  our  souls. 

Now  the  persons  of  whom  I  am  speaking  have 
not  yet  acquired  this  new  taste  and  principle.  It 
has  made  with  them  no  part  of  the  process  of  edu- 
cation. It  is  yet  to  be  acquired.  They  are  de- 
sirous of  acquiring  it.  Let  them  first  be  persua- 
ded of  its  absolute  necessity.  Until  this  is  felt, 
nothing  can  be  effectually  done.  Without  it  there 
will  be  no  such  strenuous  effort  for  religious  at- 
tainment as  is  necessary  to  success.  Many  per- 
sons have  at  times,  some  have  frequently,  a  cer- 
tain conviction  upon  their  minds  that  they  are  not 
passing  their  lives  as  they  ought,  and  they  make 
half  a  resolution  to  do  differently.  They  are  ill 
content  with  tlieir  condition,  they  long  to  be  free 
from  the  reproaches  of  conscience,  they  wish  to 
be  assured  that  their  souls  are  safe.  But  although 
uneasy  and  dissatisfied,  they  take  no  steps  to- 
wards improving  their  condition,   because  they 


20 

have  no  proper  persuasion  of  its  absolute  necessi- 
ty. They  must  be  deeply  convinced  of  tliis.  They 
must  strongly  feel  that  a  state  of  indifference  is  a 
state  of  danger ;  that  they  are  on  the  brink  of  ruin, 
so  long  as  they  are  alienated  from  God,  and 
governed  by  passion,  appetite,  and  inclination, 
rather  than  a  sense  of  duty.  And  such  is  the 
power  of  habit,  that  they  in  vain  hope  to  be  de- 
livered from  its  bondage,  and  to  become  consistent 
followers  of  Christ,  unless  a  strong  feeling  shall 
lead  them  to  make  a  resolute,  energetic  effort.  If 
they  allow  themselves  to  fancy  that  it  will  be  time 
enough  by  and  by  ;  that,  after  all,  the  case  is  not 
very  desperate,  but  can  be  remedied  at  any  time  ; 
and  that  it  would  be  a  pity  yet  to  abandon  their 
pleasant  vices  ; — then  there  is  no  hope  for  them. 
They  are  cherishing  the  most  dangerous  of  all 
states  of  mind  ;•  a  state,  which  prevents  all  real 
desire  for  improvement,  is  continually  weakening 
their  power  of  change,  and  absolutely  destroys 
the  prospect  of  amendment.  They  must  begin  the 
remedy  by  a  persuasion  of  its  necessity.  They 
must  feel  it  so  strongly,  that  they  cannot  rest  con- 
tent without  immediately  subjecting  themselves 
to  the  dominion  of  religion, — as  a  starving  man 
feels  the  necessity  of  immediately  applying  to  the 
search  for  food.  No  man  will  give  himself  to  the 
thoughts,  studies,  devotions,  and  charities  of  a  re- 
ligious life,  who  does  not  find  them  essential  to 


21 

the  satisfaction  and  peace  of  his  mind,  that  is, 
who  is  satisfied  without  them.  Cherish  therefore 
the  conviction  of  this  necessity.  Cultivate  by 
every  possible  means  a  deep  persuasion  of  the 
truth,  that  the  service  and  love  of  God  are  the 
only  sufficient  sources  of  happiness  ;  and  that 
only  pain  and  shame  can  await  him,  who  withholds 
his  soul  from  the  light  and  purity  for  which  it 
was  made. 

Feeling  thus  the  importance  of  a  religious  life, 
let  them  next  be  persuaded  that  its  attainment  is 
entirely  in  their  power.  It  is  but  to  use  the 
faculties  which  God  has  given  them,  in  the  work 
and  with  the  aid  which  God  has  appointed.  No 
one  will  venture  to  say  that  he  is  incapable  of  this. 
A  religious  life,  as  we  have  seen,  grows  out  of 
the  relations  in  which  man  stands  to  God  and  his 
fellow  men ;  and  as  he  is  made  accountable  for 
the  performance  of  the  duties  of  these  relations, 
it  is  impossible  that  he  is  not  created  capable  of 
performing  them.  It  were  as  reasonable  to  urge 
that  a  child  cannot  love  and  obey  its  father  and 
mother,  as  that  man  cannot  love  and  obey  God. 

Yet  it  so  happens,  that  some  profess  to  be  de- 
terred from  a  religious  course,  by  the  apprehen- 
sion that  it  is  not  in  their  power  ;  it  is  something 
which  it  must  be  given  them  to  do ;  a  work  which 
must  be  wrought  in  them  by  a  supernatural  ener- 
gy ;  they  must  wait  till  their  time  has  come.  But 


22 

every  apology  for  irreligion  founded  on  reasons 
like  this,  is  evidently  deceptive.  It  proceeds 
upon  wrong  notions  respecting  the  divine  aid  im- 
parted to  man.  That  this  aid  is  needed  and  is 
given  in  the  Christian  life,  is  a  true  and  a  com- 
forting doctrine.  But  that  it  is  to  supersede  hu- 
man exertion,  that  it  is  a^reason  for  indolence  and 
religious  neglect,  is  a  false  and  pernicious  no- 
tion,— countenanced,  I  will  venture  to  affirm,  by 
no  one  whose  opinion  or  example  is  honored  or 
followed  in  the  Christian  church.  On  the  con- 
trary, all  agree  in  declaring  with  the  Apostle, 
that  while  God  works  in  us  to  will  and  to  do,  we 
are  to  work  out  our  own  salvation ;  and  to  do  it 
wxihfear  and  trembling,  because,  after  all,  these 
divine  influences  will  be  vain  without  our  own 
diligence. 

In  some  persons,  notion  takes  the  form  of  a  real 
or  fancied  humility.  They  fear  lest  they  be  found 
seeking  salvation  through  their  own  works,  and 
relying  on  their  own  merits.  But  what  a  strange 
humility  this,  which  leads  to  a  disregard  of  the 
divine  will,  and  disobedience  to  the  divine  com- 
mands ;  which  virtually  says,  *  I  will  continue  in 
sin  that  grace  may  abound  ! '  Let  me  ask,  too, 
Who  will  trust  to  receive  salvation  without  actual 
obedience  ?  Where  is  it  promised  to  those,  who 
will  do  nothing  in  the  way  of  self-government  and 
active  virtue  ?     Where  is  it  offered  to  any,   but 


23 

those  who  seek  it  by  bringing  forth  fruits  meet 
for  repentance,  and  by  patient  contimiaiice  in  well- 
doing ? 

And  let  none  fear  lest  this  make  void  the  grace 
of  God,  For  how  is  it  that  grace  leads  to  salva- 
tion ?  By  arbitrarily  fitting  the  soul  for  it,  and 
ushering  it  into  heaven  without  its  own  co-oper- 
ation ?  Or  is  it  not  rather  by  opening  a  free  high- 
way to  the  kingdom  of  life,  through  which  all  may 
walk  and  be  saved  ?  This  is  what  the  Saviour 
has  done  ;  he  has  made  the  path  of  life  accessible 
and  plain,  has  thrown  open  the  gate  of  heaven, 
has  taught  men  how  to  enter  in  and  reach  their 
bliss.  Whoever  pursues  this  path  and  enters 
through  the  gate  into  the  city,  is  saved  by  grace. 
For  though  he  has  used  his  own  powers  to  travel 
on  this  highvv^ay,  yet  he  did  not  establish  that 
highway,  nor  could  he  have  traversed  it  without 
guidance  and  aid,  nor  opened  for  himself  the  door 
of  entrance.  Heaven  is  still  a  free  gift,  inasmuch 
as  it  is  granted  by  infinite  benignity  to  those  who 
did  not,  do  not,  and  cannot  deserve  it.  Yet  there 
are  certain  conditions  to  be  performed.  And  to 
refuse  the  performance  of  those  conditions,  on  the 
plea  that  you  thus  derogate  from  the  mercy  of 
God,  and  do  something  to  purchase  or  merit  hap- 
piness, is  a  madness  which  ought  to  be  strenuous- 
ly opposed,  or  it  will  leave  you  to  perish  in  your 
sins. 


24 

These  two  tilings  tlien  may  be  regarded  as 
axioms  of  the  religious  life ;  first,  that  a  man's 
own  labors  are  essential  to  his  salvation  ;  second, 
that  his  utmost  virtue  does  nothing  toward  pur- 
chasing or  meriting  salvation.  When  he  has  done 
all  his  duty,  he  is  still,  as  the  Saviour  declares, 
but  an  'unprofitable  servant.'  He  has  been  more 
than  recompensed  by  the  blessings  of  this  present 
life.  That  the  happiness  of  an  eternal  state  may 
be  attained,  in  addition  to  these,  is  a  provision  of 
pure  grace  ;  and  it  is  mere  insanity  to  neglect  the 
duties  of  religion  through  any  fear  lest  you  should 
seem  to  be  seeking  heaven  on  the  ground  of  your 
own  desert.  Virtue  would  be  your  duty,  though 
you  were  to  perish  for  ever  at  the  grave;  and  that 
God  has  opened  to  his  children  the  prospect  o^ 
an  inheritance  infinitely  disproportioned  to  their 
merit,  is  only  a  further  reason  for  making  virtue 
your  first  and  chief  pursuit. 

It  is  true  there  is  great  infirmity  in  human 
nature,  and  you  will  find  yourself  perplexed  and 
harrassedby  temptations  from  without  and  within. 
Passion,  appetite,  pleasure,  and  care  solicit  and 
urge  you,  and  render  it  not  easy  to  keep  yourself 
unspotted  from  the  world.  But  what  then?  Does 
this  excuse  the  want  of  exertion  ?  Is  this  a  good 
reason  for  sitting  idly  with  folded  arms,  and  say- 
ing, It  is  all  vain,  I  am  wretchedly  weak,  I  can- 
not  undertake    this   work,    till    God     gives  me 


25 

strength?  Believe  me,  there  is  no  humility  in 
this.  Think  as  humbly  of  yourself  and  your 
deserts,  as  you  please ;  but  to  think  so  meanly  of 
the  powers  God  has  given  you  as  to  deem  them 
insufficient  for  the  work  he  has  assigned  you,  is 
less  humility  than  ingratitude  and  want  of  faith. 
Nothing  is  truer  than  this, — that  your  work  is 
proportioned  to  your  powers,  and  your  trials  to 
your  strength.  '  No  temptation  hath  taken  you 
but  such  as  is  common  to  man  ;  but  God  is  faith- 
ful, who  will  not  suffer  you  to  be  tempted  above 
that  ye  are  able ;  but  will,  with  the  temptation, 
also  make  a  way  to  escape,  that  ye  may  be  able 
to  bear  it.'  Here  is  the  manifestation  of  peculiar 
grace  ;  when  a  sincere  and  humble  spirit,  in  its 
earnest  search  for  the  true  way,  encounters  obsta- 
cles, hardships,  and  opposition,  at  this  moment  it 
is,  that  aid  from  on  high  is  interposed.  The  pro- 
mise to  Paul  is  fulfilled,  i*  My  strength  is  made 
perfect  in  weakness.'  *  The  spirit  helpeth  our 
infirmities.'  Let  it  be,  then,  that  human  nature 
is  weak  ;  no  w  ork  is  appointed  greater  than  its 
power,  and  it  *  can  do  all  things  through  Christ 
who  strengtheneth.' 

Be  thoroughly  persuaded,  therefore,  that  the 
work  before  you  is  wholly  within  your  power. 
Nothing  has  a  more  palsying  effect  on  one's  ex- 
ertions in  any  enterprise,  than  the  doubt  whether 
he  be  equal  to  it.     Something  like  confidence   is 

D 


56 

necessary  to  enable  him  to  pursue  it  vigorously 
and  perseveringly.  It  is  as  necessary  in  action, 
as  the  Apostle  represents  it  to  be  in  prayer.  *  He 
that  wavereth  or  doubteth  is  like  a  wave  of  the 
sea,  driven  by  the  wind  and  tossed/  But  when 
he  has  confidence,  as  the  Christian  may  have, 
that  his  strength  is  equal  to  his  task,  that  he  can- 
not fail  if  he  resolutely  go  forward,  and  that  all 
hindrances  must  disappear  before  a  steady  and  in- 
dustrious zeal,  which  leans  upon  God,  and  is 
strong  in  the  power  of  the  Lord, — then  he  presses 
on  with  alacrity,  encounters  trials  without  alarm, 
and  is  *  steadfast,  immovable,  always  abounding 
in  the  work  of  the  Lord  ;  knowing  that  his  labor 
IS  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord  ;'  for  that  nothing  but 
his  own  fault  can  bar  him  out  of  heaven,  or  cause 
him  to  fail  of  eternal  life. 

And  all  this  is  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
deepest  humility,  and  the  profoundest  sense  of 
dependence  on  God. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE   STATE  OF  MIND  IN  WHICH  THE  INQUIRER 
SHOULD    SUSTAIN  HIMSELF. 

All  thiS)  I  say,  is  perfectly  consistent  with 
the  deepest  humility  and  most  unassuming  de- 


27 

pendence  upon  God.  If  it  were  not,  it  would  be 
false  and  wrong ;  for  a  humble  and  dependent 
disposition  is  a  prime  requisite  in  the  Christian ; 
a  grace  to  be  especially  cultivated  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  religious  course.  It  is  concerning 
this  state  of  mind  that  we  are  now  to  speak. 

Deep  religious  impressions  are  always  accom- 
panied by  a  sense  of  personal  unworthiness,  and 
not  unfrequently  commence  with  it.  It  is  man's 
acquaintance  with  himself,  which  leads  him  most 
earnestly  to  seek  the  acquaintance  of  God ,  and  to 
perceive  the  need  of  his  favor.  The  sense  of  sin, 
the  feeling  that  his  life  has  not  been  right,  that 
his  heart  is  not  pure,  that  his  thoughts,  disposi- 
tions, appetites,  passions,  have  not  been  duly  re- 
gulated, that  he  has  lived  according  to  his  own 
will  and  not  that  of  God,  that  if  taken  from  his 
worldly  possession,  he  has  no  other  object  of  de- 
sire and  affection  to  which  his  heart  could  cling, 
if  called  to  judgment  for  the  use  of  his  powers  and 
privileges  he  must  be  speechless  and  hopeless  ; 
all  this  rises  solemnly  to  his  mind,  and  sinks  him 
low  under  a  sense  of  ill  desert  and  shame.  He 
sees  that  he  might  have  been,  ought  to  have  been, 
better;  that  he  might  have  been,  ought  to  have 
been,  obedient  to  God,  and  a  follower  of  all  that 
is  good.  He  cannot  excuse  himself  to  himself. 
Every  effort  to  palliate  his  guilt,  only  shows  him 
its  aggravation  ;  and  he  cries  out,  with  the  peni- 


28 

tent  prodigal,  *  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven,  and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy 
to  be  called  thy  son.'  He  has  offended  against 
knowledge  and  opportunity,  and  in  spite  of  in- 
struction and  warning.  He  looks  back  to  the 
early  and  innocent  days,  when,  if  his  Saviour  had 
been  on  earth,  he  might  have  taken  him  to  his 
arms,  and  said, '  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  God.' 
But  alas,  how  has  he  been  changed  !  He  has 
parted  with  that  innocence,  he  has  strayed  from 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  he  has  defiled  and  lost 
the  image  of  his  Maker.  While  he  dwells  on 
this  thought  of  what  he  was  and  what  he  might 
have  become,  and  contrasts  it  with  what  he  is,  he 
is  filled  with  remorse.  He  exaggerates  to  him- 
self all  his  failings,  paints  in  blacker  colors  than 
even  the  truth,  all  his  iniquities,  counts  himself 
the  chief  of  sinners,  and  is  almost  ready  to  despair 
of  mercy. 

When  the  mind  is  strongly  agitated  in  this 
way,  it  is  surprising  how  the  characters  of  very 
different  men  become,  as  it  were,  equalized.  Of 
many  individuals,  differing  in  the  most  various 
ways  as  regards  the  number  and  nature,  the  mag- 
nitude and  circumstances  of  their  offences,  and 
most  widely  separated  in  the  actual  scale  of  de- 
merit, each  at  such  a  season  regards  himself  as 
the  most  guilty  of  men.  Sometimes  the  high- 
wrought  expressions,  in  which  the  victim  of  re- 


29 

morse  vents  the  excruciating  anguish  of  his  mind, 
are  accounted  affectation  and  hypocrisy.  But 
tliere  can  be  no  good  reason  to  doubt  that  they 
are  entirely  sincere.  The  man  honestly  describes 
himself  as  he  seems  to  himself  at  the  time.  He 
is  in  his  own  eyes  the  wretch  he  draws.  And 
this  is  very  easily  explained.  He  sees  at  one 
view  all  his  past  sins,  open  and  secret,  his  thought- 
lessness, ingratitude,  negligence,  and  omissions, 
his  depraved  inclinations,  evil  desires,  and  cher- 
ished lusts,  which  no  one  else  knows,  and  which 
no  one  else  could  compare,  as  he  can,  with  his 
privileges  and  obligations.  All  these  he  sets  by  the 
side,  not  of  the  hidden  and  private  life  of  others, 
but  of  their  decent  public  demeanor.  He  com- 
pares tbem  too,  not  with  the  standard  of  worldly, 
outward  morality,  but  with  the  strict,  searching, 
holy  requisitions  of  the  law  of  God.  And  in  such 
a  comparison,  at  such  a  moment,  he  cannot  but 
regard  himself  as  most  unworthy  and  depraved. 

And  we  need  not  be  too  anxious  at  once  to  cor- 
rect this  feeling.  The  abasement  is  well  ;  for  no 
one  can  feel  guilt  too  strongly,  or  abhor  sin  too 
deeply.  The  time  will  come,  when  he  will  learn 
to  follow  the  direction  of  the  Apostle,  and  '  think 
of  himself  soberly,  as  he  ought  to  think.'  But 
at  this  first  fair  inspection  of  the  deformities  of 
his  character,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  he 
should  make  his  estimate  with  perfect  sobriety. 
D  2 


so 

Only  let  every  thing  be  done  to  guide  and  soothe 
and  encourage  him,  and  nothing  to  exasperate  his 
self-condemnation,  or  drive  him  to  insanity  or  de- 
spair. 

But  such  a  state  of  mind  as  I  have  described, 
though  not  uncommon,  and  by  many  cherished  as 
the  most  desirable  and  suitable  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  religious  life,  is  by  no  means  univer- 
sal at  that  period,  and  cannot  be  regarded  as  es- 
sential. The  experience  of  different  individuals 
in  this  respect  greatly  varies,  and  is  much  affect- 
ed by  temper  and  disposition,  as  v/ell  as  by  other 
circumstances.  Many  of  the  best  Christians  have 
never  been  subjected  to  those  violent  and  tortur- 
ing emotions,  which  have  shaken  and  convulsed 
others.  Their  course  has  been  placid  and  serene, 
though  solemn  and  humble.  They  have  felt  their 
sin,  and  have  mourned  beneath  it,  and  in  deep 
humiliation  have  sought  its  forgiveness  ;  but  with- 
out any  thing  of  terrified  emotion  or  gloomy  des- 
pondency. They  have  been  gently  won  to  truth 
by  the  mild  invitations  of  parental  love,  without 
needing  the  fearful  denunciations  of  punishment 
•end  wrath  to  awaken  them.  This  difference 
among  individuals  is  owing  partly,  as  I  said,  to 
constitutional  difference  of  temperament,  which 
renders  it  impossible  that  the  same  representa- 
tions should  effect  all  alike ;  and  partly  to  the 
different  modes  in  which  religion  is  presented  to 


SI 

cHiTerent  minds  ;  having  first  appeared  to  some  in 
its  liarslier  features,  as  to  the  Jews  on  Sinai,  and 
to  others  in  the  milder  form  of  a  Saviour's  com- 
passion. But  however  this  may  be,  and  however 
the  humiliation  of  one  may  wear  a  difi'erent  com- 
plexion from  that  of  another,  it  is  a  state  of  mind 
sincere  and  heartfelt  in  all,  to  be  studiously  cher- 
ished, and  to  be  made  a  permanent  feature  in  the 
character. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  life  this  feel- 
ing assumes  the  form  of  anxiety,  as  it  afterwards 
leads  to  watchfulness.  This  word  may,  perhaps 
as  well  as  anv,  describe  the  state  of  those  for 
whom  1  am  writing.  They  are  anxious  about 
themselves,  about  their  characters,  their  condi- 
tion, their  prospects.  They  are  anxious  to  know 
what  they  shall  do  to  be  saved,  and  to  gain  satis- 
factory assurance  that  they  shall  be  pardoned  and 
accepted  of  God.  This  is  a  most  reasonable  soli- 
citude. What  can  be  more  reasonable  than  such 
a  solicitude  for  the  greatest  and  most  lasting  good 
to  man  ?  What  more  becoming  a  rational  crea- 
ture, whose  eternal  welfare  is  dependent  on  his 
own  choice  between  good  and  evil,  than  this  de- 
sire to  know  and  pursue  the  right  ?  this  earnest 
thoughtfulness  respecting  his  condition?  and  this 
inquiry  for  the  true  end  of  his  being  ?  If  a  per- 
son, hitherto  thoughtless,  is  in  this  state  of  mind, 
he  is  to  be  congratulated  upon  it.     We  are  to  be 


32 

thankful  to  God  in  his  behalf,  that  another  im- 
mortal soul  is  awake  to  its  responsibility,  and  seek- 
ing real  happiness.  We  would  urge  him  to  cher- 
ish the  feelings  which  possess  him  ;  not  with  me- 
lancholy despondency;  not  with  superstitious 
gloom  ;  not  with  unmanly  and  unmeaning  debase- 
ment ;  but  with  thoughtful,  self-distrusting  con- 
cern, with  deliberate  study  for  the  path  of  duty, 
and  a  resolute  purpose  not  to  swerve  from  it. 

Remember  that  much  depends,  I  might  say, 
every  thing  depends,  on  the  use  you  Biake  of  this 
your  present  disposition.  Be  faithful  to  it,  obey 
its  promptings,  let  it  form  in  you  the  habit  of  de- 
vout reflection  and  religious  action,  and  all  must 
be  well.  The  issue  will  be  the  Christian  charac- 
ter, and  the  soul's  salvation.  But,  refuse  to  cher- 
ish this  disposition,  drive  it  from  you,  smother 
and  silence  it,  and  you  will  probably  do  yourself 
an  everlasting  injury.  It  is  like  putting  out  a 
fire  which  has  just  been  lighted,  and  which  may 
with  difficulty  be  kindled  again.  It  is  trifling 
with  the  sensibility  of  conscience,  it  is  bringing 
hardness  upon  your  heart ;  and  there  is  less  pros- 
pect that  you  will  afterward  arrive  at  an  habitual 
and  controlling  regard  for  your  religious  interests. 
This  it  is  to  *  quench  the  spirit.' 

Be  sensible,  therefore,  that  this  is  a  critical 
moment  in  the  history  of  your  character,  that  it 
is  in  many  respects  the  decisive  point,  at  which 


33 

your  destiny  is  to  be  determined.  For  now  it  is, 
in  all  probability,  that  the  bias  of  your  mind  is 
to  be  determined  for  good  or  evil.  Be  sensible 
then  how  necessary  it  is  that  you  keep  alive,  and 
cultivate  by  all  possible  means,  this  tenderness  of 
heart.  Avoid  every  pursuit,  engagement,  and 
company  which  you  find  to  be  inconsistent  with 
it,  or  unfavorable  to  it,  or  tending  to  destroy  it. 
Scenes  at  other  times  innocent,  should  now  be 
shunned,  if  they  operate  to  turn  the  current  of 
your  affections  ;  for  you  are  engaging  in  a  great 
work,  the  giving  your  heart  a  permanent  bias  to- 
ward God,  and  it  ought  not  to  be  interrupted. 
While  this  is  doing,  you  can  well  afford  to  with- 
draw from  many  scenes  you  might  otherwise  fre- 
quent, and  indeed  you  can  ill  afford  the  risk  of 
exposing  yourself  to  their  influence. 

It  may  be  well  to  observe  another  caution.  Say 
nothing  of  your  thoughts  and  feelings  to  any,  but 
one  or  two  confidential  friends.  Many  a  religi- 
ous character  has  been  spoiled  in  the  forming  by 
too  much  talk  with  too  many  persons.  The  best 
religious  character  is  formed  in  retirement,  by 
much  silent  reflection,  and  private  reading  and 
prayer.  What  the  soul  needs  above  all  things, 
is  to  commune  with  itself  and  with  God ;  then  it 
is  established,  strengthened,  settled.  But  if  a 
man  go  out  from  his  closet,  and  seek  for  instruc- 
tion and  guidance  by  talking  with  all  who  will 


34> 

talk  with  him,  he  fritters  away  his  feelings ;  his 
frame  becomes  less  deeply  and  essentially  spiri- 
tual ;  words  take  the  place  of  sentiment ;  and  he 
is  very  likely  to  become  a  talkative,  fluent,  super- 
ficial religionist,  with  much  show  of  sound  doc- 
trine, and  a  goodly  readiness  of  sound  speech,  but 
without  substantial  principle.  Shun,  therefore, 
rather  than  seek,  much  communication  with  many 
persons.  But  some  counsel  and  encouragement 
you  may  need.  Apply  therefore  to  your  minis-- 
ter.  He  is  your  legitimate  and  true  counsellor, 
and  he  will  be  glad,  in  friendly  and  confidential 
intercourse,  to  lead  you  on.  You  may  have  also 
some  pious  friend  to  whom  possibly  you  may  un- 
bosom yourself  more  freely,  than  you  have  courage 
to  do  to  your  minister,  and  he  may,  in  some  par- 
ticulars, give  you  aid,  which  the  situation  of  the 
pastor  may  put  it  out  of  his  power  to  afford.  In 
this  manner,  feel  your  way  along  quietly,  silently, 
steadily.  Let  the  growth  within  you  be  like  that 
of  the  grain  of  wheat,  which  germinates  in  secret, 
and  springs  up  without  observation,  and  attracts 
little  notice  of  men,  till  it  shows  the  ear  and  the 
full  corn  in  the  ear.  Be  anxious  to  establish 
yourself  firmly  in  the  power  of  godliness,  before 
you  exhibit  its  fortn. 

In  connexion  with  this,  it  may  be  well  to  add  a 
caution  on  a  kindred  point.  Do  not  spend  too 
much  time  in  public  meetings.  You  will  of  course 


35 

be  desirous  to  hear  the  preaching  of  the  gospel. 
You  feel  as  if  you  could  not  hear  it  too  often  or 
too  much.  You  wonder  that  preaching  should 
never  before  have  seemed  so  interesting.  You 
listen  with  new  ears ;  and  prayers,  hymns,  and 
sermons  fall  upon  your  spirit  as  if  you  had  been 
gifted  with  a  new  sense.  It  is  well  that  it  is  so. 
By  all  means  cherish  this  ardent  interest  in  pub- 
lic worship.  But  do  not  indulge  it  to  excess.  Let 
your  moderation  be  seen  in  giving  to  this  its  pro- 
per place  and  importance  in  your  time  and  regard. 
It  is  not  the  only  religious  enjoyment  or  means 
of  improvement  in  your  power ;  and  it  may  possi- 
bly by  mere  self-indulgence  which  carries  one 
from  meeting  to  meeting.  Remember  that  no 
duty  towards  others  is  to  be  neglected  in  the 
search  for  personal  improvement ;  this  would  be 
sin.  And  it  is  at  times  a  higher  duty  to  attend 
to  your  family,  to  be  with  your  friends,  to  instruct 
your  children,  to  consult  the  feelings  and  yield  to 
the  prejudices  of  a  husband  or  wife,  a  parent, 
brother,  or  sister,  than  it  is  to  pursue  your  own 
single  advantage,  it  maybe  your  own  gratification, 
by  going  out  to  social  worship.  And  if  it  be  your 
object  to  please  God  or  discipline  your  own  spirit, 
you  will  better  effect  that  object  by  this  exercise 
of  self-denial,  than  by  doing  what  would  give  un- 
easiness to  others,  and  perhaps  even  alienate  them 
from  you,  and  render  them  hostile  to  religion  it- 


36 

self.  The  advice  of  the  Apostle  to  wives  is  in 
force  on  this  point,  and  is  equally  applicable  to 
the  other  social  relations :  *  Ye  wives,  be  in 
subjection  to  your  own  husbands  ;  that  if  any  obey 
not  the  word,  they  may,  without  the  word,  be  won 
by  the  conversation  of  the  wives  ;  while  they  be- 
hold your  chaste  conversation  coupled  with  fear. ' 
Be  warned  therefore  against  this  error.  And 
what  are  you  to  lose  by  the  course  which  I  re- 
commend ?  Believe  me,  however  much  may  be 
gained  by  the  sympathy  and  excitement  of  a  pub- 
lic assembly,  quite  as  much  is  gained  by  the  sacri- 
fice of  your  inclinations  to  duty  and  to  the  feel- 
ings of  others,  and  by  the  silent  unwitnessed  ex- 
ercises of  retirement,  which  no  one  can  forbid 
you.  Look  not  at  the  present  moment,  but  at  the 
end.  Your  desire  is  to  form  a  genuine,  solid, 
thorough,  permanent  character  of  devotion.  Well ; 
try  to  form  it  wholly  in  the  excitement  and  be- 
neath the  external  influence  of  public  meetings, 
and  it  will  be  such  a  character  as  can  exist  only 
in  such  scenes.  Your  piety  will  always  need  the 
presence  and  voice  of  men  to  keep  it  alive,  and, 
unsustained  by  them,  will  sink  away  and  die. 
This  at  least  is  the  danger  to  be  apprehended ; 
and  experience  declares  that  it  is  no  slight  one. 
But  form  your  character  in  private,  build  it  up 
by  the  action  of  your  own  mind,  under  the  di- 
rection of  the  Bible  and  by  intercourse  with  the 


37 

Father  of  spirits, — and  then  it  will  always  be  in- 
dependent of  other  men  and  of  outward  circum- 
stances. It  will  be  self-sustained  on  a  foundation 
which  man  and  earth  cannot  shake,  alike  power- 
ful in  the  solitude  and  in  the  crowd,  and  immov- 
able in  steadfastness ,  though  all  other  men  prove 
false,  and  faith  hath  fled  all  other  bosoms.  It  is 
such  a  piety  that  belongs  to  the  Christian ;  it  is 
such  that  you  are  to  seek  ;  and  you  may  well  be 
apprehensive  of  failure,  if  you  neglect  this  salu- 
tary caution. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  MEANS  OF  RELIGIOUS   IMPROVEMENT. 

The  means  to  be  used  in  order  to  render  per- 
manent your  religious  impressions,  and  promote 
the  growth  of  your  character,  are  now  to  be  con- 
sidered. They  may  be  arranged  under  the  fol- 
lowing heads  : — Reading,  Meditation,  Prayer, 
Hearing  the  word  preached,  and  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per. 

I.  Reading. 

I  begin  with  the  more  private  means  ;  and  I 
speak  of  reading  first,  because  it  is  in  the  perusal 
of  the  Scriptures  that  the  beginning  of  religious 

E 


38 

knowledge  is  to  be  found.  It  is  they  which  tes-. 
tify  of  Christ,  and  have  the  words  of  eternal  life. 
It  is  they  which  make  us  wise  unto  salvation. 
And  it  is  through  a  devout  acquaintance  with 
them,  that  the  mind  and  heart  grow  in  the  know- 
ledge and  love  of  God,  and  that  the  dispositions 
are  formed  which  prepare  for  heaven.  Every 
one  may  read  the  Bible,  and,  such  is  its  plainness 
and  simplicity  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  life 
and  godliness,  that  if  he  be  able  to  read  nothing 
else,  he  may  yet  learn  all  that  is  essential  to  duty 
and  acceptance.  Hence  it  has  happened,  that 
many,  to  whom  circumstances  have  interdicted  all 
general  acquaintance  with  books,  have  gathered, 
from  their  solitary  study  of  the  Bible  alone,  a 
wisdom  which  has  expanded  and  elevated  their 
minds,  and  a  peace  which  has  raised  them  above 
the  darkness  and  trials  of  an  unhappy  worldly 
lot. 

There  are  those  whose  condition  in  life  is  such, 
that  they  have  very  little  time  or  means  to  devote 
to  books,  and  it  were  vain  to  recommend  to  them 
that  they  should  seek  instruction  beyond  the  sa- 
cred pages,  and  the  simplest  elementary  worLs 
of  devotion.  While  therefore  it  is  the  undoubted 
duty  of  every  one  to  make  the  utmost  possible 
progress  in  religious  knowledge,  no  one  is  to  be 
condemned  for  that  omission  of  study  and  igno- 
rance of  books  which  are  rendered  una\  oidable 


39 

by  circumstances.  We  must  make  a  distinction, 
it  has  been  truly  said,  between  that  which  is  the 
duty  of  all,  and  may  be  done  by  all,  that  is,  a 
careful  and  devout  perusal  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
that  which  is  the  duty,  because  within  the  ability 
only  of  a  more  limited  number, — the  study  of 
other  sources  of  knowledge  and  virtue.  These, 
every  one  must  pursue  in  proportion  to  his  leisure 
and  means. 

The  class  of  those  who  have  the  leisure  and 
means  is  large  and  numerous ;  it  is  to  be  wished 
that  they  were  more  alive  to  their  obligation  to 
improve  themselves  accordingly.  I  know  not 
how  it  happens,  that  serious  and  devout  persons 
are  so  content  to  be  ignorant  on  those  great  topics 
which  they  truly  feel  to  transcend  all  others  in 
importance.  It  certainly  deserves  their  consider- 
ation, whether  this  indifference  be  either  credita- 
ble or  right.  Capacity  and  opportunity  form  the 
measure  of  duty  ;  and  if  they  have  received  the 
power  and  means  of  cultivating  their  minds  and 
adding  to  their  treasures  of  truth  and  thought, 
they  should  regard  it  as  an  intimation  that  this  is 
required  of  them.  They  should  not  esteem  it 
enough  to  be  sincere  and  conscientious ;  they 
should  desire  to  be  well-informed  ;  well-informed 
respecting  the  interpretation  of  the  more  difficult 
and  curious  portions  of  holy  writ,  respecting  the 
history  and  transmission  of  the  records  of  their 


40 

faith,  the  fortunes  of  the  church  in  successive 
ages,  the  effects  of  their  religion  and  other  reli- 
gions on  the  world,  the  past  and  present  state  of 
religious  opinions,  the  past  and  present  operations 
of  Christian  benevolence,  the  means  of  doing 
good,  and  the  lives,  labors,  and  speculations  of 
the  eminent  professors  of  their  faith.  Now  all 
this  is  to  be  known  only  through  books  ;  and  in 
order  to  attain  it,  a  judicious  selection  of  books, 
and  an  appropriation  of  certain  seasons  for  read- 
ing, are  primarily  requisite.  The  bare  importance 
and  interest  of  these  subjects  ought  to  be  a  suflS- 
cient  inducement  to  the  adoption  of  this  course. 

There  are  many  other  considerations  which  ren- 
der it  worthy  of  attention.  The  preaching  of  di- 
vine truth  becomes  far  more  profitable  to  those 
who  have  prepared  themselves  for  it  by  a  previ- 
ous acquaintance  with  books  and  subjects.  Words 
are  used  in  the  pulpit,  modes  of  speech  occur, 
allusions  are  made,  and  facts  and  reasonings  re- 
ferred to,  which  presuppose  an  acquaintance  with 
certain  subjects,  and  which  are  entirely,  lost  to 
those  who  never  read.  The  better  a  hearer  is 
furnished  with  preliminary  knowledge,  the  great  - 
er  pleasure  will  he  derive  from  the  pulpit ;  be- 
cause the  better  will  he  understand  and  appreci- 
ate the  sentiments  expressed.  At  present,  such 
is  the  uninformed  character  of  a  large  portion  of 
ordinary  congregations,  that  a  minister  is  com^ 


41 

pelled  to  pass  by  many  modes  of  illustration,  and 
many  representations  of  truth  and  duty,  because 
they  would  be  to  a  great  majority  unintelligible, 
and  therefore  unprofitable.     Instead  of  going  on 
to  perfection  in  the  proclamation  of  higher  and 
wider  views,  he  is  compelled,  as  the  Apostle  com- 
plained in  a  similar  case,  to  confine  himself  *  to 
the  first  principles  of  the  oracles  of  God.'*  Some 
teachers,  unwilling  or  unable  thus  to  adapt  them- 
selves to  the  actual  stature  of  their  hearer's  minds, 
pursue  their  own  modes  of  thought  and  expres- 
sion, without  regard  to  their  audience  ;  and  while 
they  gratify  a  few   reading  and  thinking  men, 
leave  the  mass  of  the  people  uninstructed  and  un- 
affected. Herein  is  a  sad  error.  But  if  the  preach- 
er must  adapt  himself  to  the  hearers,  the  hearers 
ought  to  prepare  themselves  for  the  preaching. 
This  is  to  be  done  by  greater  familiarity  with  re- 
ligious books.     They  would  then  be   ready  for 
higher  and  more  extensive  themes,  and  for  a  wid- 
er scope  of  illustration,  while  the  preacher  would 
cease  to  feel  himself  fettered.     As  it  is,  warmed 
and  filled  as  his  mind  must  often  be  by  large  con- 
templation and  exalted  study,  he  sometimes  un- 
consciously   speaks    that  which  is   an  unknown 
tongue  to  the  unlettered  man,  though  delightful 
and  wholesome  to  him  whose  habits  of  reading 
have  prepared  him  to  receive  it. 

*  Heb.  y,  12. 
E2 


42 

Further  still.  It  might  do  for  mere  men  o£ 
the  world,  who  professedly  seek  only  worldly 
good,  and  hold  of  little  worth  the  goods  of  the 
mind, — it  might  do  for  them  to  neglect  books  and 
thinking,  and  spend  all  their  precious  leisure  in 
idle  recreations.  They  are  living  for  the  body. 
But  it  is  the  distinction  of  the  Christian,  that  he 
lives  for  the  soul,  for  his  intellectual  and  moral 
nature,  for  that  part  of  him  which  is  noblest  now, 
and  which  alone  shall  live  forever.  He  has  pas- 
sed out  of  the  animal,  into  the  spiritual  life.  It 
is  not  for  him  to  omit  or  neglect  any  suitable 
means  of  intellectual  or  moral  cultivation.  He 
is  guilty  of  criminal  inconsistency,  he  is  a  traitor 
to  his  own  mind,  if  he  refuse  to  nourish  it,  sys- 
tematically, with  knowledge  and  truth.  To  keep 
it  inactive  and  ignorant,  is  to  keep  it  degraded. 
Jesus  lived  and  died  for  it,  that  it  might  attain 
the  truth,  and  that  the  truth  might  make  it  free. 
But  what  is  the  freedom  of  the  mind  bound  in  the 
fetters  of  ignorance  ?  Freedom  and  elevation  can 
come  to  it  only  through  knowledge,  and  one  chief 
fountain  of  knowledge  is  books.  These  inform 
and  excite,  and  furnish  food  for  thought.  Thought 
is  exercise  ;  it  is  to  the  mind  what  motion  is  to 
the  body.  Without  it,  there  is  neither  health 
nor  strength.  And  when  God  has  graciously  or- 
dered that  your  lot  should  be  cast  amid  the  abun- 
dance of  books,  where  you  need  only  put  forth 


43 

your  hand  to  be  supplied  ;  when  he  thus  makes 
easy  to  you  that  intellectual  and  moral  attain- 
ment which  is  the  soul's  dignity  and  happiness  ; 
1  see  not  how  you  can  answer  it  to  your  conscience 
if  you  do  not  sacredly  devote  to  this  object  a  cerr 
tain  portion  of  your  leisure. 

In  regard  to  the  quantity  of  time  to  be  thus  em- 
ployed, no  uniform  rule  can  be  given.  Men  vary 
so  much  in  occupation,  opportunity,  and  leisure, 
that  while  one  may  easily  command  hours,  another 
can  with  difficulty  secure  minutes.  On  this  point 
every  one  must  be  left  to  the  decision  of  his  own 
conscience.  Inquire  of  that  impartially  and  se- 
riously, and  then  determine  how  large  a  portion 
of  time  you  can  daily  give  to  this  great  object.  I 
believe  it  may  be  laid  dov/n  as  certain,  that  most 
persons  may  afford  to  it  a  great  deal  more  than 
they  imagine.  Some  make  no  effort  to  do  any 
thing,  because  they  can  effect  so  little  that  they 
account  it  not  worth  the  effort.  But  they  should 
remember,  that  duty  does  not  consist  in  doing 
great  things,  but  in  doing  what  we  can  ;  and  that 
if  they  would  redeem  from  the  hurry  of  business 
and  the  relaxation  of  sleep  one  quarter  of  an  hour 
a  day,  it  would  be  a  more  praiseworthy  offering 
than  the  many  hours  given  by  others.  Even  five 
minutes  a  day  would  be  worth  something,  would 
be  invaluable  to  one  who  was  earnestly  bent  on 
using  it.     It  would  amount  in  a  year  to  about 


44 

thirty  hours  ;  and  who  will  say  that  it  is  not  bet- 
ter to  improve  the  mind  for  thirty  hours,  than  not 
at  all  ?  But  I  am  persuaded  that  there  is  scarcely 
any  one,  however  engrossed  in  necessary  cares, 
who  may  not  find  much  more  time  than  this — who 
may  not  find  an  hour  a  day.  By  greater  care  of 
the  minutes  which  he  wastes,  by  abridging  a  little 
from  his  meals,  a  little  from  his  pleasures,  and  a 
little  from  his  sleep,  it  would  be  easily  accom- 
plished. If  one  be  in  earnest,  as  he  should  be, 
if  he  seek  for  wisdom  as  for  gold,  and  for  under- 
standing as  for  hid  treasure,  it  will  be  no  impossi- 
ble thing  to  find  the  requisite  time.  Few  men 
but  could  readily  gain  an  hour  a  day,  if  they  were 
to  gain  by  it  a  dollar  a  day.  Indeed,  it  is  often 
seen  in  actual  life,  that  a  person,  to  whom  reli- 
gion has  become  an  object  of  deep  concern,  con- 
trives to  devote  to  his  books  more  time  than  this, 
though  before  he  would  have  thought  it  impossi- 
ble. Nothing  is  wanting  but  the  *  the  willing 
mind.'  If  one  feel  the  necessity,  every  thing  else 
will  give  way.  Hather  than  remain  ignorant  and 
without  progress  in  the  truth,  he  will  cheerfully 
watch  an  hour  later  at  night,  and  rise  an  hour 
earlier  in  the  morning.  The  gain  to  the  mind 
will  more  than  balance  the  inconvenience  to  the 
body. 

You  may  regard  it,  then,  as  some  proof  of  the 
sincerity  and  earnestness  of  your  desire  for  im- 


45 

provement,  if  you  find  yourself  able  to  appropri- 
ate a  certain  portion  of  time  to  profitable  reading. 
It  is  important  that  you  select  for  this  purpose 
those  hours  which  shall  be  least  liable  to  inter- 
ruption, and  that  you  allow  nothing  to  infringe 
upon  them.  Keep  this  as  holy  time.  Be  punctu- 
al and  faithful  to  it,  as  the  banker  to  his  hours  of 
business. 

There  are  seasons  in  every  one's  vocation,  at 
which  his  business  is  less  pressing  than  at  others  ; 
and  there  are  also  seasons  of  leisure,  which  he 
feels  at  liberty  to  take  for  recreation  and  amuse- 
ment. As  you  will  have  lost  all  taste  for  frivolous 
amusement  and  unprofitable  pleasures,  you  will 
be  able  to  devote  all  such  seasons  to  the  improve- 
ment of  your  mind ;  and  instead  of  the  theatre 
and  the  ball-room,  from  which  you  would  have 
returned  fatigued  in  body  and  distracted  in  mind, 
and  to  some  extent  unfitted  for  duty,  you  will  en- 
joy the  converse  of  the  great  minds  which  have 
blessed  the  world  ;  and  after  filling  your  soul 
with  their  thoughts,  will  go  back  to  your  ordinary 
duty  with  a  spirit  refreshed  and  invigorated,  and 
a  body  unwearied.  During  the  season  of  long 
evenings,  especially,  when  so  many  are  hurrying 
from  diversion  to  diversion,  as  if  this  long  leisure 
were  provided  them  only  that  they  may  contrive 
how  ingeniously  they  can  throw  it  away, — you 
will  perceive  that  you  have  a  most  favorable  op- 


portunity  for  pursuing  extensive  researches,  and 
making  large  acquisitions  of  knowledge.  Even- 
ing after  evening,  in  your  own  quiet  retirement, 
you  will  sit  down  to  this  instructive  application. 
By  this  diligence,  what  progress  may  you  make; 
what  volumes  may  you  master ;  to  what  extent 
may  you  penetrate  the  secrets  of  science,  acquire 
a  knowledge  of  history  and  of  letters,  and  become 
enriched  with  those  great  and  various  treasures 
of  intellect,  which  are  subservient  to  the  growth 
of  the  mind  and  the  glory  of  God.  You  will  thus 
be  using  time  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  was 
given, — the  ripening  and  perfecting  of  your  im- 
mortal mind  ;  and  at  all  intervals  of  release  from 
duty  to  others,  will  make  it  your  happiness  to  be 
thus  performing  a  great  duty  to  yourself. 

In  your  selection  of  books,  the  Bible  will,  of 
course,  hold  the  first  place.  This  is  to  be  read 
daily,  and  to  be  your  favorite  book.  Remember, 
however,  that  it  may  be  perused  in  such  a  man- 
ner, that  it  were  better  never  to  have  opened  it. 
If  studied  inattentively,  for  form's  sake,  or  only 
for  the  purpose  of  gathering  arguments  to  support 
your  opinions,  it  is  read  irreligiously,  and  there- 
fore unprofitably.  You  must  habitually  regard 
it  as  uttering  instructions  with  a  voice  of  authori- 
ty, of  which  you  are  earnestly  to  seek  the  true 
meaning,  and  then  submissively  to  obey  them. 
You  must  never  forget  that  your  hopes  of  right 


47 

instruction  are  suspended  on  the  simplicity  and 
fidelity  with  which  you  receive  those  holy  words ; 
and  as  they  were  written  expressly  to  make  you 
wise  unto  salvation,  no  inferior  purpose  must  dis- 
tract your  attention  from  this. 

You  will  therefore  always  have  in  view  two 
objects  :  to  understand  the  book,  and  to  apply  it 
to  your  own  heart  and  character. 

The  study  of  the  Bible,  for  the  purpose  of  un- 
derstanding it,  is  an  arduous  labor.  Dr.  Johnson 
said  of  the  New  Testament,  **  It  is  the  most  diffi- 
cult book  in  the  world,  for  which  the  labor  of  a 
life  is  required."  No  book  requires  greater  and 
more  various  aid.  Its  thorough  interpretation  is 
a  science  by  itself;  and  you  must  ask  of  those,  in 
whose  judgment  you  confide,  to  point  out  the  re- 
quisite helps  for  this  interesting  investigation ;  to 
enable  you  to  reach  the  pure  text,  and  arrive  at 
the  meaning  of  every  passage  as  it  lay  in  the  mind 
of  the  writer.  Recollect  that  a  passage  standing 
by  itself  may  bear  a  very  good  meaning,  which 
yet  was  not  the  meaning  designed  ;  and  make  it 
a  sacred  rule,  not  to  receive  or  quote  it  in  any 
other  sense  than  that  which  belongs  to  it  in  its 
original  place.  The  neglect  of  this  rule  has  oc- 
casioned much  misinterpretation  and  misapplica- 
tion of  scripture  ;  and  some  passages  have  come 
to  be  familiarly  understood  and  cited  in  senses 
altogether  foreign  from  their  proper  import.  This 


43 

is  a  perversion;  and  it  is  an  immense  evil  to 
have  wrong  ideas  thus  fastened  upon  the  language 
of  the  sacred  writers. 

And  be  not  afraid  of  examining  the  text  scru- 
pulously, and  employing  the  utmost  energy  of 
your  mind  in  discovering  and  determining  its 
true  sense.  It  is  a  duty  to  do  this.  You  can 
decide  between  opposing  and  possible  interpreta- 
tions only  by  applying  your  own  mind  to  judge 
between  them  ;  and  the  more  keenly,  impartially, 
and  fearlessly  you  proceed,  the  greater  the  pro- 
bability that  your  decision  will  be  correct.  On 
this  point  some  persons  greatly  err.  They  seize 
on  the  first  meaning  which  presents  itself  to  their 
minds,  or  has  been  presented  by  another,  and  ab- 
solutely abide  by  it ;  they  refuse  to  investigate 
further,  lest  they  should  be  guilty  of  irreverently 
trying  the  divine  word  by  their  own  fallible  reason. 
Indulge  no  such  weakness  as  this.  Never  indeed 
be  guilty  for  a  moment  of  the  insane  folly  and  sin 
of  disputing  the  authority  of  revelation,  or  setting 
up  your  reason  as  a  superior  light  and  safer  guide. 
But  in  deciding  upon  the  meaning  of  scripture, 
you  cannot  use  your  intellectual  powers  too  much 
or  too  acutely.  Use  them  constantly,  coolly,  im- 
partially, with  the  best  aid  you  can  obtain  from 
human  authors,  and  then  you  may  rest  satisfied 
that  you  have  done  your  duty, — have  done  all 
which  you  could  do  toward  learning  the  truth ; 


49 

and  if  you  havo  accon^.panied  it  with  prayer  for  a 
blessing  from  the  Source  of  truth  and  wisdom,  you 
cannot  have  failed,  in  any  essential  point,  to  as- 
certain the  will  of  God. 

But  there  is  another  object, — the  application 
of  scripture  to  the  forming  of  the  heart  and  cha- 
racter. This  is  a  higher  object  than  the  other, 
and  may  be  eflected  in  cases  where  very  little  of 
rigid  scrutiny  can  be  made  into  the  dark  places 
of  the  divine  word.  Blessed  be  God,  it  is  not  ne- 
cessary in  order  to  salvation,  that  one  should  com- 
prehend all  the  things  hard  to  be  understood,  or 
be  able  to  follow  out  the  train  of  reasoning  in 
every  Epistle,  and  restore  the  text  in  every  cor- 
ruption. Do  all  this  as  much  as  you  can.  But 
when  you  read,  as  it  were,  for  your  life;  when 
you  take  the  Bible  to  your  closet,  to  be  the  help 
and  the  solitary  witness  of  your  prayers  ;  when 
you  take  it  up  as  a  lamp  wdiich  you  are  to  hold  to 
your  heart  for  the  purpose  of  searching  into  its 
true  state,  that  you  may  purify  and  perfect  it; — 
then,  put  from  your  mind  all  thoughts  of  differ- 
ing interpretations  and  various  readings,  and  the 
perplexities  of  criticism  and  translation.  You 
have  only  to  do  with  what  is  spiritual  and  practi- 
cal. You  are  no  more  a  scholar,  seeking  for  in- 
tellectual guidance,  but  a  sinful  and  accountable 
creature  asking  for  help  in  duty  and  deliverance 
from  an  evil  world  and  an  evil  heart.  Read,  there- 

F 


50 

fore,  as  if  on  your  knees.  Make  your  heart  feel 
and  respond  to  every  sentiment.  Apply  to  your- 
self with  rigor  every  precept  and  warning ;  and 
according  to  the  character  of  the  passage,  let  your 
mind  glow  with  fervor  and  be  uplifted  in  holy 
adoration  and  devout  gratitude,  or  be  thrilled  and 
humbled  by  the  representations  of  infinite  purity 
and  justice,  or  melted  and  borne  away  by  the 
tones  of  tender  love  and  long-sufl!'ering  grace.  Suf- 
fer yourself  to  read  nothing  coldly,  when  you  read 
for  spiritual  improvement.  You  might  as  law- 
fully pray  coldly.  Therefore  let  your  reading  be 
like  your  prayers,— done  with  all  your  heart. 
And  be  sensible  that  it  is  better  to  go  over  one 
short  passage  many  times,  till  you  fully  grasp  its 
sentiment  and  grow  warm  with  it,  than  to  run 
over  hastily  and  unfeelingly  many  chapters. 

You  are  not  to  suppose,  from  what  has  been 
said,  that  you  are  altogether  to  separate  these  two 
modes  of  reading  the  Scriptures.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  will  greatly  aid  you  in  unraveling  their 
true  meaning,  to  carry  to  their  interpretation  a 
devout  mind,  wakeful  to  the  impression  of  their 
moral  beauty,  and  in  sympathy  with  their  divine 
origin;  since  nothing  is  truer  than  this, — tbat  a 
study  is  rendered  easy  by  the  interest  of  the  af- 
fections in  it,  and  that  difficulties  disappearbefore 
the  excitement  of  feeling.  And  on  the  other  hand, 
when  50U  are  reading  expressly  for  improvement 


51 

and  devotion,  you  will  recur,  without  effort,  and 
consequently  without  interruption,  to  the  results 
of  your  cooler  inquiry,  and  spontaneously  make 
use  of  the  interpretations  which  your  critical 
scrutiny  has  proved  to  be  just. 

The  cautions  thus  briefly  sketched  are  import- 
ant for  two  reasons  ;  one,  that  there  is  a  tendency 
in  him  who  has  become  interested  in  the  critical 
examination  of  the  sacred  writings,  to  continue 
to  read  them  critically  and  with  a  principal  re- 
gard to  their  elucidation,  when  he  ought  to  be  im- 
bibing their  spirit ;  and  the  other,  that  the  per- 
ception of  this  tendency  has  been  an  apology  to 
many  for  not  engaging  in  such  inquiries  at  all ; 
They  esteem  it  better  to  go  on  with  their  crude, 
unconnected,  and  undigested  knowledge,  whiob 
in  many  cases  is  only  ignorance  (for  where  they 
have  not  inquired  it  is  impossible  they  should 
know),  than  to  check  the  fervor  of  their  religious 
feelings,  as  they  fancy  must  inevitably  be  done, 
by  accurate  study.  But  this  is  a  melancholy  error 
It  reminds  one  of  the  old  pretence,  that  ignorance 
is  the  mother  of  devotion.  How  can  it  be  ration- 
ally supposed,  that  a  careful  inquiry  concerning 
the  history,  the  text,  and  the  signification  of  the 
Bible,  should  necessarily  alienate  the  mind  from 
the  true  spirit  of  the  Bible  ?  I  say  necessarily, 
because  the  tendency  alluded  to  undoubtedly 
exists  ;  and,  however  it  may  be  accounted  for,  i\ 


52 

evidently  needs  to  be  cautiously  guarded  against. 
This  may  be  done.  Do  it  then,  as  you  value  the 
warmth  and  fervor  of  your  soul.  Do  it,  always 
and  perseveringly,  by  daily  reading  in  that  frame 
of  spiritual  self-application  which  I  have  recom- 
mended. Thus  you  will  avoid  the  danger ;  and 
while  you  arrive  at  enlarged  views  of  the  nature, 
contents,  history,  and  purposes  of  these  sacred 
records,  you  will  retain  and  increase  the  suscep- 
tibility of  your  heart  to  all  their  representations 
of  duty  and  heaven. 

In  regard  to  the  choice  of  other  books,  it  would 
take  up  too  much  room  to  enter  into  all  the  many 
considerations  which  might  be  started.  Let  it  be 
sufficient  to  say  in  general,  that  if  you  would  form 
a  religious  character,  you  are  always  to  have  in 
view  the  two  objects  already  named, — religious 
knowledge  and  moral  improvement.  Your  books 
therefore  will  belong  to  one  or  the  other  of  these 
two  departments  ;  and  it  would  be  v/eil  to  have 
one  of  each  kind  always  lying  by  you  in  the  course 
of  being  read.  That  is,  be  at  all  times  engaged 
with  two  books ;  one  of  a  moral  and  devotional 
character,  to  keep  your  frame  of  mind  right,  and 
your  feelings  in  harmony  with  eternal  truth  ;  the 
other,  of  an  instructive  character,  to  enlarge  your 
knowledge,  and  extend  your  ideas  concerning 
God,  and  man,  and  truth.  Then  you  will  never 
he  at  a  loss  for  occupation.     You  will  not  fritter 


58 

away  precious  hours  in  '  wondering  wliat  you  bad 
better  tlo. ' 

To  the  better  accomplishment  of  this  purpose, 
it  will  be  well  to  obtain  of  your  minister,  or  some 
competent  friend,  a  list  of  selected  books,  in  the 
order  in  which  they  should  be  read.  I  earnestly 
recommend  this.  Many  persons  read  at  random, 
without  selection,  whatever  they  may  accident- 
xjlly  meet  with.  They  make  no  inquiry  whether 
a  book  be  good  or  bad,  worth  perusal  or  not ;  but 
because  it  lies  in  their  way,  or  has  been  read  by 
some  friend,  they  read  it.  How  many  miserable 
volumes  of  trash  are  thus  devoured  !  and  that  too 
by  persons,  who  would  be  alarmed  at  the  suspicion 
that  they  are  prodigally  throwing  away  their  time, 
But  they  do  not  pursue  the  same  random  course 
in  other  matters.  They  do  not  choose  their  food 
or  clothing  of  the  first  thing  which  accidentally 
presents  itself.  They  take  pains,  they  spend  time, 
they  inquire,  compare,  judge,  and  select  only 
what  they  deliberately  perceive  to  be  best.  And 
when  we  treat  the  body  thus,  shall  we  have  no 
care  for  the  mind  ?  Shall  we  leave  it  to  be  fed  by 
any  food  which  chance  may  bring  it,  and  thus  ex- 
pose it  to  the  risk  of  pernicious  nourishment,  to 
the  hazard  of  being  made  feeble,  sickly,  and  cor- 
rupt? I  adjure  you,  fall  not  into  this  too  common 
thoughtlessness.  Do  not  take  it  for  granted,  that, 
because  it  is  a  printed  book,  therefore  it  must  be 
F  2 


5h 

worth  reading.  Get  a(]\iee  upon  the  sul>jeet,  and 
read  systematically  ;  rcilecting,  that  your  object 
is  not  amusement,  but  impro'.  ement, — improve- 
ment of  your  religious  nature  ;  and  that  you  have 
no  more  right  to  run  the  hazard  of  poisoning  it 
through  a  negligent  selection  of  its  nutriment, 
than  to  destroy  your  body  by  similar  menus.  The 
religious  culture  of  your  mind  is  a  most  respon- 
sible charge  ;  it  is  to  be  effected,  in  no  small  de- 
gree, by  the  exercise  and  guidance  it  shall  receive 
from  books  ;  and  how  will  you  lift  up  your  head, 
when  the  Judge  shall  inquire  concerning  your 
manner  of  preparing  it  for  his  kingdom,  if  you 
have  provided  for  its  immort:il  appetite  nothing 
but  unarranged  and  unselected  trash,  when  stores 
of  the  choicest  kind  were  profusely  spread  before 
you  ? 

It  does  not  fall  within  my  plan  to  pursue  this 
subject  further,  or  to  treat  the  many  questions 
which  may  arise  on  the  choice  of  books,  and  habits 
of  reading,  in  general.  It  may  be  said  in  few 
words,  that  no  work  of  truth  and  science,  or  of 
elegance  and  taste,  which  does  not  tend  to  corrupt 
the  morals  or  create  a  disrelish  for  serious 
thought,  need  be  prohibited  to  a  religious  man. 
Within  the  limits  of  this  restriction  he  may  freely 
range.  Let  him  only  remember,  that  even  the 
employment  of  reading  may  become  m.ere  idleness 
and  wastefulness  ;  and  that  a  man  may  deciile  re- 


spccting  his  actual  principles  nr.d  character  ly 
the  character  of  the  hooks  to  wliich  he  is  most  at- 
tached. He  must  therefore  watch  and  guard  his 
taste.  Then  he  may  find  it  in  his  power  to  cause 
every  hour  thus  spent  to  minister  to  the  growth 
of  his  best  attainments. 

II.  Meditation. 

This  is  a  great  and  essential  means  of  improve- 
ment.      It  is  essential  to  self-examination  and 
self-knowledge,   without  which   the  hope  of  pro- 
cress  and  of  virtue  is  vain.    No  one  can  know  his 
own   character,  or  be   aware  of  the  dispositions, 
feelings,   and   motives  by   which   he  is  actuated, 
except  by  means  of  deep  and  searching  reflection. 
In   the   crowd   of  business  and  the  hurry  of  the 
world,   we  are  apt  to  rush  on  v/ithout  weighing, 
as  we  should,  the  considerations  which  urge  us; 
we   are  liable  to  neglect  that  close  inspection  of 
ourselves,  and   that  careful  reference  of  our  con- 
duct to  the  unerring  standard  of  right,  which  are 
requisite  both  to  our  knowing  where  we  are,  and 
to  our  keeping  in  the  right  way.     It  is  necessary 
that  we  sometimes  pause  and  look  around  us,  and 
consider  our  ways  ;  that  we  take  observation  of 
the  course  we  are  running,  and  the  various  influ- 
ences to  which  we  are  subjected,  and  be  sure  that 
we  are   not  driven  or  drifted   from  the  direction 
in  which  we  ought  to  be  proceeding.     Without 
this  there  is  no  safety. 


5(i 

Meditation,  too,  is  necessary  in  order  to  the  di- 
gesting of  religious  truth,  making  familiar  what 
we  have  learned,  and  incorporating  it  with  our 
own  minds.  We  cannot  even  retain  it  in  our  me- 
mories, much  less  can  we  be  fully  sensible  of  its 
power  and  worth,  except  through  the  habit  of  re- 
flecting upon  it.  We  cannot  have  it  ready  at 
command,  so  as  to  defend  it  when  assailed,  or 
state  it  when  inquired  after,  or  apply  it  in  the 
emergencies  of  life,  unless  it  be  familiar  to  us  by 
habitual  meditation.  So  that  even  reading  loses 
its  value  if  unaccompanied  by  reflection.  The 
obligations  and  motives  of  duty,  the  promises, 
hopes,  and  prospects  of  the  Christian,  the  great 
interests  and  permanent  realites  by  which  he  is 
to  be  actuated,  are  not  visibly  and  tangibly  pre- 
sent to  him,  like  the  scenes  of  his  passing  life  ; 
and  they  must  be  made  spiritually  present  to  his 
apprehension  and  thought,  by  deliberate  medita- 
tion, if  he  would  be  guided  and  swayed  by  them. 
Indeed,  without  this,  he  must  be  without  consider- 
ation or  devotion  ;  ignorant  of  the  actual  state  of 
his  character,  and  in  constant  danger  of  falling  a 
sacrifice  to  the  unfriendly  influences  of  the  world. 

In  attempting,  therefore,  the  acquisition  of  a 
religious  character,  it  is  important  that  you  main- 
tain an  habitual  though tfulness  of  mind.  It  has 
been  said,  and  with  perfect  truth,  that  no  man 
pursues  any   great  interest  of  any  kind,  in  which 


51 

important  consequences  arc  at  stake,  witliout  a 
profound  and  settled  seriousness  of  mind ;  and 
that  a  man  of  really  frivolous  disposition,  never 
accomplishes  any  thing  valuable.  How  especially 
true  must  this  be,  in  regard  to  the  great  interests 
of  religion  and  eternity  !  Hov/  can  you  hope  to 
make  progress  in  that  perplexing  and  difficult 
work,  the  establishment  of  a  religious  character, 
the  attainment  of  the  great  Christian  accomplish- 
ments, without  a  fixed  and  habitual  thoughtful- 
nes3  ? — a  thoughtfulness,  which  never  forgets  the 
vastness  and  responsibility  of  the  work  assigned 
to  man,  nor  loses  the  consciousness  of  a  relation 
to  more  glorious  beings  than  are  found  upon  earth. 
This  will  be  a  habit,  something  more  than  an  oc- 
casional musing  and  reveries,  at  set  times,  when 
he  shall  force  himself  to  the  task,  as  the  Catliolic 
goes  to  confession.  It  will  be  the  uniform  con- 
dition of  his  mind  ;  as  much  so  as  solicitude  to 
the  merchant,  who  has  great  treasures  exposed  to 
the  uncertainties  of  the  ocean  and  the  foe  ; — a  so- 
licitude, not  gloomy,  or  unsocial,  or  morose,  but 
thoughtful ;  so  that  nothing  shall  be  done  incon- 
siderately, or  without  adverting  (o  the  bearing  it 
may  have  on  his  character  and  fiaal  prospects. 

Then,  besides  this  general  state  of  mind,  there 
must  be,  as  I  have  said,  allotted  periods  of  ex- 
press meditation.  As  the  precept  respecting  de- 
votion  is,   *  Pray  without  ceasing,'   and   yet  set 


58 


times  of  prayer  are  necessary ;  so  also,  while  we 
say,  *  Be  always  thoughtful,'  we  must  add,  that 
particular  seasons  are  necessary  on  purpose  for 
meditation.  You  must  set  apart  certain  times 
for  reflection,  when  you  shall  deliberately  sit 
down  and  survey  with  keen  scrutiny  yourself, 
your  condition,  your  past  life,  and  the  prospect 
before  you ;  inquire  into  the  state  of  your  religi- 
ous knowledge  and  personal  attainments ;  and 
strengthen  your  sense  of  responsibility  and  pur- 
poses of  duty,  by  dwelling  on  the  attributes  and 
government  of  God,  the  ways  of  his  providence, 
the  revelations  of  his  word,  the  requisitions  of 
his  will,  the  glory  of  his  kingdom,  and  all  the  af- 
fecting truths  and  promises  which  the  gospel  dis- 
plays. These  are  to  be  subjects  of  distinct  and 
profound  consideration,  till  your  mind  becomes 
imbued  with  them,  and  until  filled  and  inspired 
by  the  spiritual  contemplation,  you  are  in  a  man- 
ner *  changed  into  the  same  image  as  by  the  spirit 
of  the  Lord.'  The  proper  season  for  this,  is  the 
season  of  your  daily  devotion  ;  when,  having  shut 
out  the  world,  and  sought  the  nearer  presence  of 
God,  your  mind  is  prepared  to  work  fervently. 
Then,  contemplation,  aided  by  prayer,  ascends  to 
heights  which  it  could  never  reach  alone ;  and 
sometimes,  whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body 
it  can  hardly  tell,  soars,  as  it  were,  to  the  third 
heaven,  and  enjoys  a  revelation  to  which,  at  other 
hours,  it  is  a  stranger. 


59 

This,  however,  is  an  excitement  of  mind  which 
is  rarely  to  be  expected.  Those  seasons  are,  'few 
as  angels'  visits,'  which  lift  the  spirit  to  any  thing 
like  ecstacy.  They  are  glimpses  of  heaven,  which 
the  sonl,  in  its  present  tabernacle,  can  seldom 
catch,  only  frequently  enough  to  afford  a  brief 
foretaste  of  that  bliss  to  which  it  shall  hereafter 
arrive.  Its  ordinary  musings  are  less  ethereal ; 
happy,  undoubtedly,  though  oftentimes  clouded 
by  feelings  of  sadness  and  doubt,  and  by  a  sense 
of  unworthiness  and  sin.  But  however  mixed 
they  may  be,  they  are  always  salutary.  If  sad 
and  disheartening,  they  lead  to  more  vigilant  self- 
examination,  that  we  may  discover  their  cause, 
and  thus  rekindle  the  watchlight  that  is  so  es- 
sential to  right  progress.  If  serene  and  joyous, 
they  are  a  present  earnest  of  the  peace  which  is 
assured  to  the  righteous,  and  the  joy  of  heart 
which  is  one  of  the  genuine  fruits  of  the  spirit. 
Be  not,  therefore,  troubled  or  cast  down  (indeed 
never  be  cast  down,  so  long  as  you  can  say  to 
your  soul.  Trust  in  God),  be  not,  I  say,  disquiet- 
ed or  cast  down,  because  of  the  inequalities  of 
feeling  with  which  you  enter  and  leave  your  clo- 
set, and  the  changes  from  brightness  to  gloom, 
from  clearness  to  obscurity,  which  often  pass 
over  your  mind.  This,  alas,  is  the  inheritance 
of  our  frail  nature.  An  equal  vigor  of  thought, 
clearness  of  apprehension,  force  of  imagination, 


60 

ferror  of  devotion,  always  perceiving,  feeling, 
adoring,  with  the  same  vividness  and  satisfaction, 
are  to  be  our  portion  in  the  vrorld  of  spirits.  Here 
we  see  all  things,  *  as  in  a  glass,  darkly  ;'  there 
we  shall  see  '  face  to  face.'  Here,  the  truths  we 
rejoice  in  are  too  often  like  the  images  of  absent 
friends,  which  we  strive  in  vain  to  bring  brightly 
before  the  eye  of  onr  minds  ;  they  are  shadowy, 
indistinct,  and  Geetir.g.  Bat  there,  they  will  be 
like  our  friends  themselves,  always  present  in 
their  own  foil  form  and  beauty,  to  dwell  in  the 
mind  unfadingly  and  constitute  its  bliss.  Be  sa- 
tisfied, then,  if  you  sometimes  arrive  in  your  me- 
ditations at  that  glow  of  elevated  enjoyment  which 
you  desire.  What  you  are  rather  to  seek  for,  is, 
a  calm  and  composed  state  of  affections,  an  equani- 
mity of  spirit,  a  serenity  of  temper; — like  the 
quiet  which  an  affectionate  child  experiences  in 
the  circle  of  it5  parents  and  brothers,  where  it  is 
not  excited  to  ecstacy  by  the  thought  of  it3  fa- 
ther s  goodness,  but  lives  beneath  it  in  a  state  of 
equal  and  affectionate  trust.  Like  this  should  be 
the  habitual  experience  of  the  Christian  ;  and  if 
it  be  thus  with  you,  let  not  occasional  dulness  or 
darkness,  coming  over  your  spirit  in  its  religious 
hours,  dishearten  or  distress  you. 

This  I  say,  because  many  persons  of  truly  de- 
vout habits  have  unquestionably  suffered  much 
from  this  cause.     In  the  natural  fluctuations  of 


Gl 

the  animal  spirits,  or  the  nervous  system,  or  the 
bodily  health,  they  sometimes  find  themselves 
cold  at  heart,  and  seemingly  insensible  to  reli- 
gious considerations.  It  seems  to  them  that  their 
hearts  have  waxed  gross,  that  their  eyes  are  closed, 
and  their  ears  become  dull  of  hearing.  In  vain 
do  they  read  and  think  ;  they  oannot  arouse  them- 
selves to  any  thing  like  a  *  realizing  sense  *  of 
these  great  objects  ;  but  regard  with  a  stupid  un- 
concern what  at  other  times  has  been  the  source 
of  their  chief  enjoyment.  But  let  the  humble  and 
timid  believer  be  of  good  cheer.  This  is  not  al- 
ways a  sign  of  guilt,  or  of  desertion  by  God.  It 
may  be  traced  to  the  original  and  unavoidable  im- 
perfection of  human  nature  ;  it  is  to  be  lamented 
as  such,  but  not  to  be  repented  of  as  sin  ;  and  one 
may  not  expect  to  be  relieved  from  it,  till  the 
soul  is  freed  from  the  body.  Let  him  watch  the 
course  of  his  mind,  and  he  will  find  the  same  ine- 
quality of  feeling  to  exist  upon  other  subjects. 
He  does  not  at  all  times  take  an  equal  interest  in 
his  ordinary  concerns,  nor  does  he  at  all  times 
feel  the  highest  warmth  of  affection  toward  his 
parent,  friend,  or  child.  Let  him  watch  others, 
and  he  will  discover  the  same  variations  in  them. 
They  will  confess  it  to  be  so.  The  oldest  and 
most  established  Christians  will  describe  them- 
selves to  have  passed  their  whole  pilgrimage  in 
this  state  of  fluctuation.     Read  the  private  jour- 

G 


6S 

nals  of  distinguished  believers,  and  you  find  in 
them  frequent  complaints  of  lukewarmness,  in- 
difference, and  deadness  of  heart.  They  mourn 
over  it,  they  bewail  it,  they  strive  against  it,  and 
yet  it  adheres  to  them  as  long  as  they  live.  It  is 
not,  therefore,  your  peculiar  sin,  but  a  common 
infirmity.  Regard  it  in  this  light ;  and  do  not 
let  it  destroy  your  peace  of  mind,  or  lead  you  to 
overlook  the  rational  evidence  that  your  heart  is 
right  with  God. 

But  also,  on  the  other  hand, — for  the  Chris- 
tian's path  is  hedged  in  with  dangers  on  every 
side,  and  in  trying  to  escape  from  one  it  is  easy  to 
rush  into  another, — take  heed  that  you  do  not  un- 
warrantably apply  this  consolation  to  yourself, 
and  make  this  excuse  in  cases  in  which  you  really 
deserve  blame.  Do  not  let  this  apology,  which 
is  designed  only  for  the  comfort  of  the  humble 
and  watchful,  be  used  by  you  as  a'cover  for  neg- 
ligence and  sinful  self-confidence.  Remember 
that  your  unsatisfactory  state  of  religious  sensi- 
bility may  be  possibly  your  own  fault ;  and  you 
are  not  to  presume  that  it  is  otherwise,  until  you 
have  faithfully  searched  and  tried.  Have  you 
not,  for  a  time,  been  unreasonably  devoted  to 
amusement,  or  engrossed  by  unnecessary  cares, 
so  as  to  have  neglected  the  watching  of  your 
heart?  Have  you  not  for  a  season  been  thouglit- 
less,  light-minded,  frivolous,  and  careless  of  that 


63 

devout  reverence  to  God,  by  which  you  should 
always  be  actuated  ?  Have  you  not  engaged  in 
some  questionable  undertaking,  or  allowed  your- 
self in  sloth  or  self-indulgence,  or  cherished  ill 
feelings  toward  others,  or  permitted  your  temper 
to  be  kept  irritated  by  some  unimportant  vexa- 
tions, or  let  your  imagination  run  loose  among 
forbidden  desires  ?  Ask  yourself  such  questions, 
and  perhaps  in  the  nature  of  your  recent  occupa- 
tions you  may  detect  the  cause  of  your  present 
listlessness.  If  so,  change  the  general  turn  of 
your  life.  In  the  words  of  Cowper's  hymn,  it  is 
only  *A  closer  walk  with  God,'  which  can  bring 
back  *  the  blessedness  you  once  enjoyed,'  Now 
your  heart  is  desolate  and  unsatisfied  ;  you  find 
in  it '  an  aching  void,  which  God  alone  can  fill ;' 
and  it  is  only  by  renewing  your  acquaintance  with 
him,  that  you  can  renew  your  peace. 

But,  after  all,  remember  that  you  are  to  judge 
of  the  real  worth  of  these  seasons,  not  by  your  en- 
joyment of  them  as  they  pass,  not  by  the  luxury 
or  rapture  of  your  contemplation,  but  by  their  ef- 
fect upon  your  character  and  principles,  by  the 
religious  power  you  gain  from  them  toward  meet- 
ing the  duties  and  suflferings,  the  joys  and  sor- 
rows, the  temptations,  trials,  and  conflicts  of  ac- 
tual life.  Meditation  is  a  means  of  religion  ;  not 
to  be  rested  in  as  a  final  good,  nor  allowed  to  sa- 
tisfy us,  except  so  far  as  it  imparts  to  the  charac- 


64 

ter  a  permanent  impress  of  seriousness  and  duty, 
and  strengthens  the  principles  of  faith  and  self- 
government.  If  it  add  daily  vigor  to  your  reso- 
lutions, and  secure  order  to  your  thoughts,  se- 
renity to  your  temper,  and  uprightness  to  your 
life,  then  it  has  fulfilled  its  legitimate  purpose. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  it  end  in  the  reverie  of  the 
hour,  then,  however  fervent  and  exalted,  it  is, 
comparatively  speaking,  worthless  to  yourself  and 
unacceptable  to  God.  Its  permanent  influence 
on  the  character  is  the  true  test  of  its  value. 

It  is  easy  to  see,  therefore,  that  there  are  three 
purposes  which  you  have  in  view  ;  the  cultivation 
of  a  religious  spirit,  the  scrutiny  of  your  life  and 
character,  the  renewing  of  your  good  purposes. 

By  the  first  of  these  you  are  to  insure  the  pre- 
dominance of  a  spiritual  frame  of  mind,  a  per- 
petual, paramount  interest  in  divine  truth,  and 
its  incorporation  with  the  frame  and  constitution 
of  your  soul ;  so  that  you  shall  be  continually  en- 
larging your  apprehensions  concerning  God,  his 
providence,  and  his  purposes,  and  at  the  same 
time  make  them  part  of  the  very  substance  and 
materials  of  your  intellectual  constitution,  the 
pervading  and  actuating  motives  of  all  your  life. 

By  this  means,  religion  becomes  to  the  Chris- 
tian, what  the  spirit  of  his  profession  is  to  the 
soldier,  the  one  present  thought,  motive,  and  im- 
pulse, absorbing  all  others,  and  urging  him  to  his 


65 

one  great  object  by  its  mastery  over  all  other 
thoughts,  principles,  and  affections.  The  other 
two  purposes  of  meditation  which  I  mentioned, 
may  be  described  as  the  surveying  and  burnish- 
ing of  the  warrior's  arms,  in  preparation  for  the 
summons  to  actual  combat ;  or  as  the  act  of  the 
mariner  in  mid  ocean,  who  every  day  lifts  his  in- 
struments to  the  light  of  heaven,  and  consults  his 
charts  and  his  books,  that  he  may  learn  where  he 
is,  and  what  has  been  his  progress,  and  whether 
any  change  must  be  made  in  his  course,  in  order 
to  his  reaching  the  intended  haven.  The  warrior, 
who  should  allow  his  arms  to  rust  for  want  of  a 
little  daily  care,  and  the  mariner  who  should  be 
shipwrecked  from  neglect  of  taking  seasonable 
observations,  are  emblems  of  the  folly  of  the 
man  who  presses  on  through  life,  without  ever 
pausing  to  scrutinize  the  principles  on  which  he 
acts,  and  rectify  the  errors  he  has  committed. 

This  self-examination  must  be  universal ;  em- 
bracing alike  the  conduct  of  your  external  life 
and  the  habitual  tenor  of  your  mind.  You  must 
survey  the  train  of  your  thoughts,  the  temper  ycu 
have  sustained,  your  deportment  toward  others, 
your  conversation,  your  employment,  the  use  of 
your  time  and  of  your  wealth  ;  you  must  consider 
by  what  sort  of  motives  you  are  prevailingly  guid- 
ed, what  is  the  probable  effect  of  your  example, 
and  whether  you  are  doing  all  the  good  which 
G2 


66 

might  be  reasonably  expected  of  you  ;  yo6  must 
compare  yourself  with  the  example  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  measure  your  life  by  the  laws  of  holy  living 
prescribed  in  his  gospel.  And  in  order  that  these 
and  other  topics  may  all  have  their  place  in  the 
survey,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  keep  them  by  you 
on  a  written  list.  Cotton  Mather  adopted  and 
recommended  the  practice  of  assigning  to  such  in- 
quiries each  its  particular  day  of  the  week  ;  so 
that  every  night  might  have  its  own  topic  of  re- 
flection, and  every  topic  its  due  share  of  attention. 
Others  may  find  this  a  useful  suggestion. 

A  renewal  of  your  resolutions  is  to  follow  this 
inquiry.  Knowing  where  you  are,  and  what  you 
need,  you  are  to  arrange  your  purposes  according- 
ly. It  is  a  sad  error  of  some  to  fancy  that  seeing 
and  acknowledging  their  faults  is  all  which  is  re- 
quired of  them.  They  sit  down  and  bewail  them, 
and  in  weeping  and  sorrow  waste  that  energy  of 
mind  which  should  have  been  exerted  in  amend- 
ment. But  it  is  surely  far  better,  with  manly 
readiness  to  rise  and  act  without  a  tear,  than  to 
shed  torrents  of  bitter  water,  and  still  go  on  as 
before.  Regret  and  remorse  naturally  express 
themselves  in  weeping  ;  but  repentance  shows  it- 
self in  action.  It  may  begin  in  sorrow,  but  it  ends 
in  reformation.  And  you  have  little  reason  to  be 
satisfied  with  your  reflections  and  your  penitence, 
if  they  do  not  issue  in  prompt  and  resolute  action. 


67 

III.  Prayer. 

As  there  is  no  duty  more  frequently  enjoined 
in  the  New  Testament  by  our  Saviour  and  the 
Apostles,  so  there  is  none  which  is  a  more  indis- 
pensable and  efficacious  means  of  religious  im- 
provement, than  Prayer ;  for  which  reason  it  de- 
mands particular  attention. 

The  practice  of  devotion  is  a  sign  of  spiritual 
life,  and  a  means  of  preserving  it.  No  one  prays 
heartily  without  some  deep  religious  sentiment  to 
actuate  him.  This  sentiment  may  be  but  occasion- 
ally felt ;  it  may  be  transient  in  duration  ;  but 
the  exercise  of  it  in  acts  of  devotion  tends  to  ren- 
der it  habitual  and  permanent,  and  its  frequent 
exercise  causes  the  mind  at  length  te  exist  always 
in  a  devout  posture.  He  who  truly  prays,  feels, 
during  the  act,  a  sense  of  God's  presence,  author- 
ity, and  love ;  of  his  own  obligations  and  un- 
worthiness  ;  of  his  need  of  being  better.  He 
feels  grateful,  humble,  resigned,  anxious  for  im- 
provement. He  who  prays  often,  often  has  these 
feelings,  and  by  frequent  repetition  they  become 
customary  and  constant.  And  thus  prayer  oper- 
ates as  an  active,  steady,  powerful  means  of  Chris- 
tian progress. 

Indeed,  nothing  effectual  is  to  be  done  with- 
out it.  That  it  is  a  chief  duty,  even  natural  rea- 
son would  persuade  us.  That  it  is  a  condition  on 
which  divine  blessings  are  bestowed,  Christianity 


68 

assures  us.  That  it  is  a  high  gratification  and  en- 
joyment, every  one  knows  who  has  rightly  engaged 
in  it.  And  that  it  is  of  all  means  of  moral  re- 
straint and  spiritual  advancement  the  most  effect- 
ive, no  one  can  doubt,  who  understands  how  pow- 
erfully it  stirs  and  agitates  the  strongest  and  most 
active  principles  of  man,  and  how  complete  is  the 
dominion  which  those  principles  have  over  his 
character  and  conduct.  All  this  is  clear  and  suf- 
ficient, without  adding  the  assurance  of  the  Sa- 
viour, that  it  is  effectual  to  draw  down  spiritual 
aid  from  heaven.  Add  this,  and  the  subject  is 
complete.  It  is,  both  naturally  and  by  appoint- 
ment, a  chief  duty  of  man  ;  from  the  nature  of  the 
soul  and  the  intercourse  it  opens  with  God,  it  is 
the  first  enjoyment ;  and  through  its  own  intrin- 
sic power  and  the  promise  of  Jesus,  it  is  the  most 
effectual  instrument  of  moral  and  spiritual  cul- 
ture. 

Perhaps  you  have  been  accustomed  to  the  per- 
formance of  this  duty  from  your  childhood.  You 
were  early  taught  to  repeat  your  prayers,  morn- 
ing and  evening.  Pains  were  taken  to  make  you 
understand  the  nature  of  the  duty,  and  to  give 
you  right  impressions  in  performing  it.  Perhaps 
you  have  retained  these  impressions,  and  have 
continued  to  this  time  the  practice  of  sincere  de- 
votion. On  the  other  hand,  you  may  have  lost 
those  impressions  and  become  neglectful  of  the 


09 

duty.  Or  perhaps  you  are  so  unhappy  as  never 
to  have  receivetl  instruction  on  this  head.  You 
have  passed  through  childhood  without  the  prac- 
tice, and  without  the  sentiment  which  should  in- 
spire it ;  and  now,  when  awakened  to  a  sense  of 
your  responsibility,  you  find  yourself  a  stranger 
to  the  mercy-seat.  But  however  the  case  may  be, 
tlie  sense  of  your  religious  wants  now  urges  you 
to  devotion  ;  and  you  are  anxious  to  make  that 
acquaintance  with  God,  which  alone  can  secure 
you  peace.  How  to  perform  the  duty,  how  to 
gain  the  satisfaction,  how  to  reap  the  advantage, 
are  points  upon  which  yon  are  anxious  to  obtain 
direction. 

First  of  all,  let  me  urge  upon  you  the  import- 
tance  of  a  plan  of  customary  seasons  for  your  de- 
votions. Have  your  settled  appointments  of  time 
and  place,  and  iet  nothing  interfere  with  them. 
Many  would  persuade  you  that  this  is  too  formal 
that  you  should  be  left  more  at  liberty ;  that  as  you 
are  to  pray  always,  it  is  quite  needless  to  assign 
any  special  season  for  the  duty.  And  one  may 
conceive  of  a  person  having  arrived  at  so  high  a 
measure  of  spiritual  attainment,  that  his  thoughts 
should  be  a  perpetual  worship,  and  retirement  to 
his  closet  would  bring  his  mind  no  nearer  to  God. 
But  such  is  at  best  an  infrequent  case;  at  any 
rate  it  is  not  yours, — you  are  a  beginner ;  it  ne- 
ver can  be  yours,  except  you  use  the  requisite 


70 

means  of  arriving  at  it ;  and  certainly  among  the 
Surest  means  is  the  custom  of  setting  apart  stated 
seasons  for  devotion.  So  that  the  very  reason  as- 
signed for  neglecting,  becomes  a  strong  reason  for 
observing  them.  You  must  feed  the  soul  as  you 
do  the  body,  furnishing  it  with  suitable  nourish- 
ment at  suitable  intervals.  You  must  keep  its 
armour  bright  and  serviceable,  as  does  the  soldier 
in  human  warfare,  who  examines  and  restores  it 
at  a  certain  hour  daily.  If  it  were  left  to  be  done 
at  any  convenient  season,  a  thousand  trifling  en- 
gagements might  cause  the  work  to  be  deferred 
again  and  again,  till  irretrievable  injury  should 
accrue.  You  have  too  many  other  engagements 
and  enticements  daily  and  hourly  occurring,  to 
make  it  safe  for  you  to  leave  this  to  accidental 
convenience  or  inclination.  In  order  to  secure 
its  performance,  you  must  put  it  on  the  list  of 
your  daily  indispensable  engagements;  and  as  it 
is  part  of  your  routine  at  certain  hours  to  break- 
fast and  dine,  and  at  certain  hours  to  attend  to 
the  concerns  of  your  household  and  profession,  so 
also  must  it  be,  to  retire  at  certain  hours  for  re- 
ligious worship.  The  wisdom  and  experience  of 
all  the  religious  world  insist  on  this  ;  and  it  would 
not  be  necessary  to  state  it  so  urgently,  if  it  did 
not  seem  to  be  a  notion  growing  into  favor  with 
some,  that,  as  the  spirit  and  not  the  form  is  the 
essential  thing,  it  is  better  not  to  be  burdened 


71 

with  methods  and  rules,  but  simply  to  praj^  al- 
ways; which,  there  is  reason  to  fear,  would  in 
practice  be  found  a  precept  to  pray  never. 

Assign  to  yourself,  therefore,  some  convenient 
hour,  when  you  shall  be  secure  from  interruption, 
and  not  hurried  by  the  call  of  other  business.  If 
you  are  much  engaged  in  active  affairs,  you  may 
perhaps  be  unable  to  secure  this,  unless  you  rise 
for  the  purpose  in  the  morning,  and  sit  up  for  it 
at  night.  This  then  you  must  do.  Deprive  your« 
self  of  a  few  moments'  sleep,  morning  and  even* 
ing.  And  I  may  ask  here,  whether  the  multitude 
of  persons  who  excuse  their  inattention  to  religi- 
ous exercises  by  their  want  of  time,  do  not  there- 
by expose  themselves  to  a  suspicion  of  insinceri- 
ty ?  For  if  they  were  truly  in  earnest,  it  would 
be  a  very  little  thing  to  retire  to  their  chambers 
fifteen  minutes  earlier,  and  to  rise  from  their 
beds  fifteen  minutes  sooner.  If  they  were  aware 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  gain,  the  sacrifice  would 
seem  insignificant.  Nay,  they  might  even  per- 
form the  duty  upon  their  beds ;  there  would  be  no 
want  of  time  then.  And  some,  who  from  the  mis- 
fortune of  poverty  have  no  place  to  which  they 
can  retire,  being  compelled  to  live  at  every  mo- 
ment in  the  company  of  others  ;  should  learn  to 
feel  that  the  bed  is  their  closet ;  that  when  lying 
there,  they  can  *  pray  to  the  Father  who  seeth  in 
secret';  and  that  they  need  make  no  complaint 


7^ 

of  want  of  opportunity,  so  long  as  tlieymay  follow 
the  Psalmist,  who  said,  *  I  remember  thee  on  my 
bed,  and  meditate  on  thee  in  the  night-watches.' 
Having  then  your  stated  times,  if  you  would 
make  them  in  the  highest  measure  profitable,  ob- 
serve the  following  rules.  First  of  all,  when  the 
hour  has  arrived,  seek  to  excite  in  your  mind  a 
sense  of  the  divine  presence,  and  of  the  greatness 
of  the  act  in  which  you  are  engaging.  Summon 
up  the  whole  energy  of  your  mind.  Put  all  your 
powers  upon  the  stretch.  Do  not  allow  yourself 
to  utter  a  word,  to  use  an  expression  thought- 
lessly, nor  without  setting  before  yourself,  in  a 
distinct  form,  its  full  meaning.  Remember  the 
words  of  Ecclesiasticus :  *  When  you  glorify 
the  Lord,  exalt  him  as  much  as  you  can  ;  for  even 
yet  vi'ill  he  far  exceed  :  and  when  you  exalt  him, 
put  forth  all  your  strength,  and  be  not  weary ; 
for  you  can  never  go  far  enough. '  Pour  your 
whole  soul,  the  utmost  intensity  of  your  feelings, 
into  your  words.  One  sentence  uttered  thus  is 
better  than  the  cold  repetition  of  an  entire  liturgy. 
For  this  reason,  let  your  prayer  be  preceded  by 
meditation.  In  this  way,  make  an  earnest  effort 
after  a  devout  temper.  While  you  thus  muse, 
the  fire  of  your  devotion  will  kindle,  and  then  you 
may  speak  with  your  tongue  ;  then  you  may 
breathe  out  the  adoring  sentiments  of  praise  and 
thanksgiving,  the  holy  aspirations  after  excellence 


73 

and  grace,  the  humble  confessions  of  your  con- 
trite spirit,  the  glowing  emotions  of  Christian 
faith.  As  you  proceed,  you  will  probably  find 
yourself  increasing  in  warmth  and  energy  ;  espe- 
cially if  you  give  way  to  the  impulse  of  your  feel- 
ings, and  do  not  check  them  by  watching  them 
too  closely.  To  do  this  chills  the  current  of  de- 
votion, and  changes  your  prayer  from  the  simple 
expressions  of  desire  and  affection,  into  an  exer- 
cise of  mental  philosophy.  Wherefore,  having 
warmed  your  mind,  give  it  free  way,  and  let  its 
religious  ardor  flow  on.  But  if,  as  will  often  be 
the  case,  you  find  your  thoughts  wander  and  your 
feelings  cool,  then  pause,  and  by  silent  thought 
bring  back  the  mind  to  its  duty ;  and  thus  inter- 
mix meditation  with  prayer,  in  such  manner  that 
you  shall  never  fall  into  the  mechanical,  unmean- 
ing repetition  of  mere  w^ords. 

As  your  object  is  not  to  get  through  with  a 
certain  task,  but  to  pray  devoutly,  you  will  find 
it  well  to  vary  your  method  according  to  circum- 
stances, and  not  always  adhere  to  the  same  mode. 
I  have  sometimes  suspected,  that  one  cause  of  the 
little  efficacy  of  public  worship  may  be  the  invari- 
able method  of  conducting  it ;  whereby  it  is  ren- 
dered formal,  monotonous,  and  deficient  in  ex- 
citement. But  however  this  may  be,  it  is  quite 
certain  that  a  similar  unvaried  routine  would  be 
extremely  injudicious  in  private  devotion.      In 

H 


74 

this  respect  a  very  considerable  latitude   is  de- 
sirable.    You  are  not  to  consult  the  wants  or  the 
convenience  of  others,  but  your  own  duty  alone. 
You  may  therefore  have  a  single  regard  to  what 
shall  suit  the  immediate    temper  and  exigencies 
^f  your  own  mind,  without  being  bound  by  any 
prescribed  rule  as  to  su1)ject,  language,  or  posture. 
You  will  always  have  by  you  the  Bible  to  quick- 
en and  guide  you.    But  sometimes  the  first  verse 
you  read  may  lead  you  to  feelings,  thoughts,  and 
prayers,  which  shall  so  occupy  your  soul  that  you 
will  read  no  more.     And  it  is  better  to  read  but 
one  verse,  which  thus  influences  your  whole  spiri- 
tual nature,  than  to  read  chapters  in  the  unhced- 
ful  way  that   is  too  often  practised.     At  another 
time,  however,  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  may 
be  your  principal  occupation,  and  your  less  ex- 
cited mind    may  not  flow  beyond  a  short  ejacula- 
tion at  the  close  of  each  verse.     Sometimes  you 
may  find  it  well  to  assist  yourself  by  a  printed  or 
written  form  ;  always  taking  care,  however,  to 
leave  it  where  any  sentiment  or  feeling  arises 
within  you  which  is  not  there  expressed.     The 
main  advantage  of  a  form  in  private  is,  to  suggest 
thoughts,  and  stimulate  our  mJnds  ;  as  soon  as  it 
has  done  this,  we  sliould  lay  it  down,  and  go  on 
of  ourselves.       Then   presently,   if  we   find   it 
necessary,   we  may  again  recur  to  the  form,  and 
make  the  whole  exercise,  if  \\c  please,   an  alter- 


75 

nalc  use  of  the  form  and  of  our  own  language.  In 
all  this  \vc  must  be  guided  by  the  occasion. 

Similar  varieties  may  be  allowed  in  regard  to 
the  subjects  of  our  devotions.  There  are  some 
great  and  leading  topics  of  adoration  and  suppli  - 
cation,  which  may  at  no  time  be  forgotten  or 
omitted.  But  it  cannot  be  necessary  in  every 
prayer  to  go  over  the  whole  field  of  devotional 
sentiment.  It  is  best  that  we  confine  ourselves 
principally  to  those  which  are  most  immediately 
interesting  at  the  time,  and  seek  to  render  our 
present  circumstances,  fortunes,  failings,  and 
prospects  the  nourishment  of  our  devotion.  The 
temptations  of  our  peculiar  lot,  our  recent  trials 
of  temper,  fortitude,  and  faith,  the  dealings  of 
Providence  with  our  family  and  friends,  the  ex- 
posure, wants,  and  improvement  of  those  most 
dear  to  us,  these,  as  they  are  at  other  moments  of 
the  greatest  concern  to  us,  should  be  the  objects 
upon  which  we  should,  first  of  all,  seek  the  bless- 
ing of  God.  This  it  is  to  connect  every  thing 
with  religion ;  in  this  way  we  shall  avoid  the 
error,  into  v/hich  some  have  fallen,  of  making  re- 
ligion a  wholly  independent  existence,  with  no 
reference  to  the  ordinary  duties  of  active  life,  and 
no  bearing  on  its  common  concerns,  and  of  course 
exercising  no  influence  upon  them.  Such  per- 
sons have  exhibited  the  strange  spectacle  of  two 
contradictory  characters  in  one  man,  the  one  ap- 


76 

parently  devout,  the  other  immoral.  But  the  con- 
sistent Christian  will  never  separate  his  religion 
from  his  life,  nor  his  life  from  his  religion.  He 
will  seek  to  incorporate  them  most  intimately  with 
each  other.  And  this  he  will  effect,  in  no  small 
degree,  by  making  his  daily  prayers,  not  the  ex- 
pression of  general  principles,  and  indefinite  con- 
fession, the  recitation  of  articles  of  faith,  or  de- 
claration of  vague  desires  after  holiness  ;  but  the 
expression  of  those  sentiments  which  belong  to  his 
peculiar  condition,  and  a  perpetual  reference  to 
his  personal  character  and  circumstances.  It  is 
for  these  and  concerning  these  that  he  will  pray ; 
and  therefore  his  prayers  will  vary  as  these  do. 

So  much,  in  a  general  way,  respecting  the  sub- 
jects of  private  devotion.  Next  we  may  say  a 
few  words  respecting  the  posture.  This  need  not 
be  invariably  the  same.  Many  have  laid  stress 
upon  it ;  but  it  seems  to  me  there  is  a  certain  free- 
dom to  be  allowed  in  this  particular  to  those  who 
are  invited  *  to  come  boldly  to  the  throne  of  grace.' 
Provided  we  secure  the  right  state  of  the  heart, 
it  can  matter  little  what  the  attitude  of  the  body 
may  be.  There  are  times  when  the  lowest  pros- 
tration seems  best  to  express  and  to  promote  the 
sentiment  of  lowly  adoration  and  broken-hearted 
humiliation  in  which  the  worshipper  supplicates 
his  Father.  But  again,  in  a  different  tone  of  spirit, 
he  is  prompted  to  stand  erect,  and  lift  up  his  head 


77 

raid  bands,  as  an  attitude  best  corresponding  to  tbe 
elevated  sentiments  by  wbich  lie  is  filled.  Wbil« 
sometimes  li©  feels  tliat  in  walking  to  and  fro,  or 
sitting  witb  bis  b«ad  leaning  upon  bis  bands,  be 
can  best  summon  bis  mind  to  its  duty  of  spiritual 
worsbip.  Cecil  says  tbat  bis  oratory  was  a  little 
walk  in  tbe  corner  of  bis  cbamber,  wbere  be  paced 
backward  and  forward  as  be  prayed.  Otbers  bave 
been  able  to  be  devout  only  on  tbeir  knees.  What 
I  would  briefly  urge  is,  that  you  be  not  scrupu- 
lous on  tbis  bead.  Allow  yourself  in  any  mode. 
Try  various  modes.  Adopt  from  time  to  time, 
that  wliicb  best  cultivates  and  encourages  the 
right  tone  of  feeling.  At  tlic  same  time  you  will 
probably  find  some  truth  in  the  remark,  that  the 
adoption  of  a  suitable  posture  aids  the  adoption  of 
a  suitable  frame  of  mind  ;  tiiat  the  expression  of 
reverence  in  the  attitude  conveys  a  feeling  of 
reverence  to  the  spirit;  for  which  reason  it  will 
be  generally  best  to  assume  the  posture  most  as» 
sociated  with  the  sentiments  of  devotion,  and  de- 
part from  it  only  wjien  the  change  may  be  favor- 
able to  engagedncss  and  fervor  of  mind.  The 
soul  may  be  as  truly  prostrated  when  you  stand, 
or  walk,  or  ride,  or  work,  or  lie  in  your  bed,  as 
when  you  kneel  before  the  altar. 

Neither  be  too  scrupulous  concerning  tbe  use 
of  your  lips.     It  is  oftentimes  as  well,  or  better, 
to  pray  mentally,  without  uttering  a  sound.    Yet 
h2 


73 

at  the  same  time  there  is  clanger,  if  this  become 
our  practice,  that  it  will  end  in  turning  prayer 
into  meditation,  and  that  our  hours  of  devotion 
will  become  hours  of  musing  and  reverie.  This 
would  be  injurious  ;  and  therefore  we  should  com- 
monly use  articulate  language.  Our  thoughts  are 
so  much  associated  with  words,  and  words  with 
their  sounds,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  think  connect- 
edly and  profitably  without  the  use  of  speech.  It 
is  well,  as  I  have  before  said,  to  muse  for  a  time  ; 
but  when,  after  musing,  the  fire  is  kindled  within 
us,  as  the  Psalmist  expresses  it,  then  we  should 
*  speak  v/ith  our  tongues. '  We  shall  find  this  an 
essential  aid  in  rendering  our  sentiments  and 
frain  of  thought  distinct  to  ourselves  ;  and  in  so 
impressing  them  on  our  memories  that  we  shall 
be  able  to  employ  them  afteiward  for  our  guid- 
ance and  comfort.  Good  sentiments,  which  mere- 
ly pass  through  the  mind  but  are  not  put  into 
words,  are  apt  to  leave  no  trace  behind  them ; 
and  he  who  should  habitually  indulge  himself  in 
thinking  his  prayers  instead  of  expressing  them, 
would  find  it  extremely  difficult  to  say  what  he 
had  prayed  for,  or  to  turn  to  any  account  in  com- 
mon life  the  employment  of  his  sacred  hours. 

Meditation  is,  in  its  nature,  an  act  very  dis- 
tinct from  prayer;  and  must  be  very  distinct  in 
its  eff*ects.  Some  effects  may  be  common  to  the 
two ;  but  much  of  the  peculiar  and  the  happiest 


79 

influence  of  devotion  on  the  character  must  be 
lost  to  the  man  who  allows  musing  to  take  the 
place  of  prayer.  It  is  one  thing  to  contemplate 
a  blessing  and  desire  it;  quite  another  to  ask  for 
it.  The  latter  may  require  a  very  diflerent  ten 
per  of  mind  from  the  former  ;  and  it  is  plain  ♦hat 
th«  promise  of  God  is  given  to  those  who  ask,  not 
to  those  who  desire  ;  to  those  who  employ  peti- 
tion, not  those  who  are  content  with  contempla- 
tion. Therefore  arrange  your  thoughts  in  words ; 
and  generally  give  them  a  distinct  utterance  in 
sound  ;  pausing  occasionally  for  reflection,  and 
being  certain  that  you  do  not  employ  words  only, 
but  that  the  thoughts  which  they  express  are 
actually  in  your  mind. 

In  regard  to  the  choice  of  words,  be  not  too 
anxious.  Take  those  which  express  your  mean- 
ing, without  regard  to  their  elegance  or  eloquence. 
You  will  naturally  fall  into  language  borrowed 
from  the  Scriptures,  and  that  is  always  good  and 
appropriate.  Only  take  heed  that  you  do  not  use 
it  mechanically,  and  without  due  consideration  of 
its  significance.  But  when  you  do  not  use  the 
terms  of  scripture,  take  those  which  express  what 
you  mean,  and  consider  nothing  further.  I  would 
lay  the  more  stress  upon  this,  because  some  per- 
sons uctually  plead  as  an  excuse  for  the  neglect 
of  this  duty,  that  they  have  no  command  of  lan- 
guage, and  cannot  readily  find  correct  and  proper 


80 

Vv'ords.  This  would  be  a  very  good  reason  for  not 
attempting  to  pray  in  public  ;  and  it  were  to  be 
wished  that  some,  who  are  forward  to  exhibit 
themselves  in  this  act,  would  consider  it  more 
seriously.  It  is  an  injury  to  religion,  when  he, 
who  speaks  to  God  in  the  public  assembly,  or  the 
circle  of  social  worship,  does  it  in  rude,  hesitatingi 
confused,  inappropriate,  or  ungranimatical  lan- 
guage. But  in  private,  when  you  are  simply  to 
pour  out  your  heart,  and  have  no  witness  but 
Heaven,  allow  yourself  to  put  aside  all  solicitude 
on  this  head.  Speak  as  you  feel,  and  what  you 
feel  ;  only  taking  care  that  your  feelings  are  right, 
and  that  you  know  what  they  are.  Alas,  you  w'ill 
often  find  it  a  task  difficult  enough  to  regulate 
your  feelings,  govern  your  thoughts,  repress  wan- 
dering desires,  keep  out  vain  images,  and  bring 
your  soul  to  a  proper  attitude  of  reverence  and 
love,  without  the  added  embarrassment  of  ar- 
ranging words  by  the  rules  of  rhetoric  and  taste. 
This  is  an  occupation  which  interferes  with  tlio 
spirituality  of  the  duty  you  are  performing.  I  be- 
seech you  to  disregard  it  altogether. 

As  respects  times  and  seasons,  it  may  be  cor- 
sidered  as  a  salutary  rule,  that  it  is  better  to  pray 
often  than  long.  There  are  times  undoubtedly, 
when  the  mind  is  glowing  and  the  heart  full,  that 
the  exercise  may  be  advantageously  continued 
through  a  long  period,  and  the  disciple,  like  his 


81 

Master,  may  spend  the  whole  night  in  prayer.  It 
would  be  a  pity  to  check  the  current  when  it  flows 
thus  spontaneously,  or  to  lose  the  luxury  of  such 
a  season.  There  may  be  seasons,  too,  when  duty 
and  improvement  shall  seem  to  demand  an  extra- 
ordinary continuance  in  devotion.  I  do  not,  there- 
fore, recommend  that  you  should  limit  yourself  to 
a  certain  stinted  number  of  minutes,  and  always 
cease  your  labor  at  the  stroke  of  the  clock.  But, 
as  a  general  rule,  do  not  covet  long  prayers ;  ra- 
ther multiply  their  number  than  increase  their 
length.  This  is  the  rule  of  Christ ;  who  insists 
that  we  pray  often  and  always,  hut  that  we  do  not 
pray  long.  A  most  wise  regulation.  For  the 
mind  is  easily  wearied  by  a  long  exercise,  and  is 
likely  to  return  to  it  slowly  and  reluctantly  ;  and 
in  the  interval,  it  is  liable  to  go  back,  like  the 
swinging  pendulum,  into  a  directly  opposite  state. 
From  which  cause  it  may  too  readily  happen,  that 
the  extended  devotions  of  the  morning  shall  ex^ 
haust  the  attention  of  the  mind  and  produce  reli- 
gious listlessness  during  the  day.  Whereas  a 
shorter  act  of  worship,  which  should  excite  with- 
out exhausting,  which  should  kindle  the  fire,  but 
not  burn  it  out,  would  leave  a  glow  upon  the  feel- 
ings, that  would  abide  for  hours,  and  prompt  to 
holy  thoughts  and  spontaneous  acts  of  worship  at 
short  intervals  throughout  the  day.  In  this  man- 
ner, the  great  object  of  kejepmg   up  a  religious 


82 

wakefulness  and  sensibility  is  with  greater  cer- 
tainty obtained,  and  the  whole  current  of  life  more 
surely  colored  by  the  infusion  of  religious  senti- 
ment. 

Let  this,  therefore,  be  your  method.  Accus- 
tom yourself  to  what  is  called  cjaculatory  prayer  ; 
that  is,  to  very  frequent  petitions  and  thanksgiv- 
ings, bursting  out  from  your  soul  at  all  times  and 
wherever  you  may  be.  Walk  with  God,  as  you 
would  journey  with  an  intimate  friend  ;  not  satis- 
fied to  make  formal  addresses  to  him  at  stated 
seasons,  but  turning  to  him  in  brief  and  familiar 
speech,  whenever  opportunity  ofl'ers,  or  occasion 
or  feeling  prompts.  Kemcmber,  that  ceremoni- 
ous addresses  are  appointed,  and  are  chiefly  ne- 
cessary on  social  and  ceremonious  occasions,  when 
a  company  of  men  is  together  and  many  minds 
are  to  act  at  once.  Tlicy  can  act  and  be  acted 
upon  simultaneously  in  no  other  way  ;  and  there- 
fore, in  civil  and  state  affairs,  as  well  as  in  reli- 
gious, this  method  is  in  use.  But  when  we  come  to 
more  private,  domestic,  confidential  intercourse, 
we  abandon  these  formal  and  complimentary  ar- 
rangements, and  find  it  most  natural  and  happy 
to  do  as  occasion  prompts  in  a  free  and  unrestrain- 
ed style  of  conduct  and  of  speech.  Just  so  it 
should  be  in  our  more  private  and  confidential 
communion  with  the  great  Father  of  our  spirits. 
The  more  it  is  unembarrassed  by  precise  forms 


S3 

and  ccremonioii.s  nppcndagcs,  and  left  to  the 
promptings  of  the  feelings  and  of  the  moment,  the 
more  appropriate  is  it  to  our  title  of  *  children,' 
and  the  greater  is  the  felicity  which  it  furnishes. 

It  has  of  course  been  implied  in  the  preceding 
remarks,  that  all  is  to  be  done  in  the  spirit  of  de- 
votion. In  wliat  manner  this  may  be  effected,  it 
is  necessary  to  state  more  distinctly ;  and  the  rules 
to  be  given  for  this  end  will  sufficiently  explain 
in  what  that  spirit  consists. 

First,  then,  the  genuine,  efTectual  prayer  is  the 
prayer  of  Faith  ;  not  of  words,  not  of  form  ;  not 
an  exercise  of  the  understanding,  reasoning  on 
the  attributes  and  dispensations  of  God,  and  ut- 
tering its  judgments  on  duty  ;  but  an  address  to 
him,  accompanied  by  a  confident  persuasion  that 
he  hears  and  regards.  *  He  that  cometh  to  God,' 
says  the  Apostle,  *  must  believe  that  he  is,  and 
that  he  is  a  re  warder  of  them  that  diligently  seek 
him.'  Of  this  there  must  be  no  doubt  on  the 
mind.  You  must  realize  that  you  are  actually 
speaking  to  him,  and  he  listening  to  you,  as  truly 
as  when  you  address  yourself  to  a  visible  mortal ; 
and  you  must  have  as  real  a  conviction  that  some- 
thing depends  on  the  act,  and  as  real  a  desire  to 
receive  what  you  ask  for,  as  when  you  make  are- 
quest  for  some  important  favor  to  a  human  friend. 
If  you  doubt,  your  prayer  is  weak  and  inefficaci- 
ous.    'Ask  in  faith,'  says  James,  '  nothing  waver- 


84 


ing ;  for  he  that  wavereth,  is  like  a  wave  of  the  sea, 
driven  with  the  wind  and  tossed.'  His  uncertain 
and  fluctuating  mind  wants  stability,  and  canqot 
receive  a  blessing.  Therefore  it  is  added,  *  Let 
not  that  man  think  that  he  shall  obtain  anything 
from  the  Lord.'  May  we  not  suppose,  that  much 
of  the  dissatisfaction  attendant  on  our  prayers, 
and  much  of  their  unfruitfulness,  is  owing  to  the 
doubtful,  hesitating  state  of  mind,  in  which  they 
are  offered  ?  And  v/liat  can  be  more  miserably 
destructive  of  all  energy  and  interest  in  the  em- 
ployment ?  If  you  doubt  whether  you  shall  be 
heard,  you  will  pray  timidly  and  coldly,  without 
courage  or  spirit.  If  your  prayers  are  thus  life- 
less, yonr  conduct  will  be  so  too,  and  all  spiritual 
savor  will  fade  away  from  your  life.  Do  not, 
then,  allow  in  yourself  this  doubtfulness  of  tem- 
per. The  most  extravagant  fanaticism,  which 
sees  a  visible  light  descending  as  it  prays,  and 
finds  an  answer  in  presentiments  and  dreams,  is 
not  more  mistaken,  and  is  far  more  happy.  Give 
yourself  up  to  the  assurance,  that  they  who  ask 
shall  be  heard,  and  go  '  boldly  to  the  throne  of 
grace.'  Jesus,  by  his  invitations  and  doctrine, 
has  given  you  a  right  to  this  confidence  ;  and  it  is 
only  in  the  exercise  of  it,  humbly  but  firmly,  that 
you  may  *  cast  out  the  fear  which  hath  torment.' 
Next,  your  prayer  must  be  fervent;  that  is, 
your  affections  must  be  engaged  and  interested  in 


85 

it.  You  must  not  barely,  as  a  reasoning  philo- 
sopher, or  well  instructed  pupil,  declare  what 
you  coolly  judge  to  be  right,  and  assert  that  man 
in  his  present  relations  ought  to  seek  and  do  what 
is  right,  and  that  God  as  the  Father  and  Governor 
should  be  adored  and  obeyed,  (which  is  the  tenor 
of  the  devotional  exercises  one  sometimes  hears) ; 
but  you  must  set  yourself  actually  to  do  these 
things.  You  can  only  be  said  to  pray,  when  the 
sentiment  you  utter  springs  from  your  heart ;  and 
rising  above  all  the  arguments  and  persuasions  of 
the  wise,  you  pour  out  your  feelings,  as  a  little 
child  confides  its  thoughts  to  a  parent's  bosom  ; 
thinking  only  of  your  own  dependence  and  need, 
and  of  God's  ability  and  readiness  to  succor  you, 
and  earnestly  aspiring  after  that  purity  and  piety, 
which  you  feel  to  constitute  the  excellence  and 
bliss  of  man.  When  this  fervent  glow  is  upon 
your  mind,  you  pray  in  the  spirit.  Seek  for  it. 
Be  not  content  without  it. 

In  the  next  place,  do  not  allow  yourself  to  grow 
weary.  Persevere  ;  however  ill-satisfied,  how- 
ever discouraged,  persevere.  Open  the  New 
Testament,  and  you  will  see  how  this  is  insisted 
upon,  again  and  again,  and  by  various  illustra- 
tions. *  That  men  should  always  pray,  and  never 
faint,*  was  the  great  moral  of  more  than  one  of 
our  Lord's  parables ;  and  to  *  pray  without  ceas- 
ing *  was  the  corresponding  direction  of  his  Apos- 
I 


86 

ties.  Situated  as  we  are  in  this  world,  there  h 
danger  that,  perceiving  little  immediate  fruit  from 
our  devotions,  we  should  relax  our  diligence  in 
them  ;  first  doubting  their  value,  then  losing  our 
interest  in  them,  and  then  ceasing  to  perform 
them.  But  we  should,  recollect,  that,  in  this 
case,  as  in  all  the  most  important  and  admirable 
provisions  of  Divine  Wisdom,  it  is  the  order  of 
Heaven  to  give,  not  to  a  single  exertion,  nor  to  a 
few  acts,  nor  even  to  some  continuance  of  effort, 
hut  only  to  a  long,  unremitted,  persevering  effort. 
We  read  this  lesson  every  where.  Look  at  that 
glorious  operation  of  God,  by  which  the  sun  cher- 
ishes and  matures  the  fruits  of  the  earth  for  the 
sustenance  of  his  creatures.  It  is  not  accomplish- 
ed by  one  act,  nor  by  several  acts,  nor  yet  by  sud- 
den, violent  exertions  of  power.  He  sends  out 
his  beams  steadily  day  by  day,  month  after  month; 
yet  the  fruit  is  still  green,  the  harvest  immature  ; 
and  if,  weary  with  the  work,  he  should  abandon 
it,  famine  might  devastate  the  globe,  when  but  six 
days'  longer  perseverance,  would  see  it  success- 
ful. The  whole  toil  of  the  season  might  thus  be 
thrown  away,  when  a  trifling  addition  only  was 
necessary  to  render  it  all  effective.  In  how  many 
other  cases  is  the  same  truth  illustrated.  Will 
you  then  abandon  your  prayers,  because  you  do 
not  witness  the  effect  from  them  which  you  de- 
sire ?     Will  you  be  discouraged,  when  by  a  little 


87 

longer  continuance,  you  may  receive  the  full  bles- 
sing at  once  ?  Shall  the  husbandman  *  wait  pa- 
tiently/ and  will  you,  looking  for  an  immortal 
harvest,  lose  it  for  want  of  patience  ?  No.  This 
is  the  eternal,  immutable  rule,  in  regard  to  all 
great  acquisitions.  Piety  and  virtue,  character 
and  immortality,  depend  upon  a  long  succession 
of  actions,  neither  of  them,  taken  singly,  of  es- 
sential moment,  yet  all  in  the  aggregate  essential 
to  effect  the  great  end  in  view.  Apply  this  con- 
sideration to  your  prayers,  and  resolutely  perse- 
vere. 

Thus  it  is  the  humble  prayer  of  confident  faith, 
fervent  and  persevering,  from  which  you  are  to 
hope  benefit  and  acceptance. 

But  you  may  ask,  How  shall  I  know  that  it  is 
accepted,  and  with  what  answer  should  1  be  sa- 
tisfied ? 

To  the  first  part  of  this  question^  there  is  but 
one  reply.  If  you  are  conscious  of  having  prayed 
aright,  you  may  be  assured  that  your  prayer  is 
ac3«pted.  You  can  have  no  external  evidence  of 
the  fact ;  hut  the  Scriptures  every  where  declare 
that  a  right  prayer  is  certainly  accepted.  This, 
then,  is  a  reason  for  self-examination,  and  for 
carefully  regulating  the  state  of  your  mind. 

You  may  imagine,  however,  that  you  are  rather 
to  judge  by  the  answer  to  your  prayers  ;  and  that 
if,  after  ofl'ering  earnest  petitions  for  certain  bles  • 


88 

sings,  you  find  them  denied,  jou  are  to  suppose 
that  your  devotions  are  not  accepted. 

In  regard  to  this  I  observe,  that  the  purpose 
of  prayer  is  twofold,  particular  and  general ;  the 
first,  to  supplicate  certain  specific  blessings  which 
we  need  or  desire ;  the  second,  to  obtain  the  di- 
vine favor  in  general ;  or,  which  is  equivalent  to 
it,  to  obtain  that  state  of  mind  and  heart  which  is 
always  an  object  of  complacency  with  God,  and 
secures  his  perm.anent  approbation.  Now  it  is 
evident,  that  the  latter  is  an  object  infinitely  more 
important  than  the  former.  It  is  of  no  conse- 
quence whether  you  receive  certain  gifts  of  health, 
or  safety,  or  prosperous  aff'airs,  in  comparison 
with  the  importance  of  attaining  that  frame  of 
soul  which  God  approves,  and  which  will  fit  you 
for  heaven.  If,  then,  you  have  plainly  gathered 
from  your  devotions  the  advantage  of  a  religious 
growth,  if  you  are  brought  by  them  nearer  to  God, 
formed  into  the  likeness  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
made  superior  to  the  things  of  earth  and  sense  ; — 
then  you  have  gained  the  highest  objects  which 
man  may  aspire  to,  and  should  feel  no  dissatisfac- 
tion or  doubt  because  inferior  blessings  are  de- 
nied. Having  received  the  greater,  you  should 
be  content  not  to  receive  the  less.  And  this  is  a 
sufficient  reply  to  the  second  part  of  the  question 
stated  above  :  viz.  With  what  answer  shall  I  be 
satisfied  ?     Be  satisfied  with  that  answer,  which 


89 

is  found  ill  the  improving  state  of  your  own  reli- 
gious aftections  ;  in  the  peace,  serenity,  confi- 
dence, and  Lope,  which  belong  to  a  mind  habitu- 
ally conversant  with  God,  and  which  God  bestows 
only  on  such. 

1  do  not  mean  to  say,  that  other  and  more  speci- 
fic answers  may  not  be  sometimes  given  ;  for 
doubtless  the  devout  mind  may  often  have  reason 
to  trace  particular  blessings,  and  with  a  practised 
eye  may  trace  them,  to  a  source  which  has  been 
opened  in  reply  to  the  prayer  of  faith.  Wiien 
you  shall  perceive  it  to  be  so  in  your  own  case, 
happy  will  you  be  ;  and  you  will  not  fail  to  ac- 
knowledge it  with  suitable  gratitude.  But  what 
I  mean  to  say  is,  that  this  in  not  what  you  are 
habitually  to  expect ;  you  are  not  to  wait  for  this 
in  order  to  the  satisfaction  of  your  mind.  God 
feeds  his  children  with  spiritual  food ;  and  it  is 
one  part  of  his  discipline  of  their  faith,  to  deny 
tbem  temporal  blessings  in  order  to  the  more 
abundant  bestowal  of  those  that  are  spiritual ;  to 
advance  the  moral  man  to  perfection,  through  the 
disappointment  or  mortification  of  the  outward 
man.  Do  not,  then,  be  uneasy,  because  your 
prayers  may  at  first  view  seem  inefficacious,  and 
return  to  you  empty.  The  service  of  truth  and 
virtue  is  not  to  be  rewarded  by  the  wages  of  this 
world's  goods,  Healtli,  strength,  riches,  pros- 
perity, are  not  the  best,  they  arc  not  the  appro- 
I  2 


90 

priate  recompence  for  self-denial,  humility,  be- 
nevolence, and  purity.  The  true  recompence  is 
eternal  and  imperishable.  If  you  have  this,  why 
be  dissatisfied  that  you  have  not  the  other  ?  If 
you  have  this,  how  can  you  fancy  that  God  has 
not  accepted  your  prayer  ? 

To  which  it  may  be  added,  that  if  you  prayed 
aright,  you  prayed  in  the  spirit  of  submission ; 
not  only  acknowledging,  but  feeling,  the  wisdom 
of  Heaven  to  be  greater  than  your  own,  and  de- 
siring to   obtain  only  such  gifts  as  that  wisdom 
should  judge   it  best  to  bestow.     Such  gifts,  of 
course,  are  granted.     If,  therefore,  you  were  sin- 
cere,  you  should  be  content.     You  are  not  re- 
lieved,  perhaps,  from  the  trouble  against  which 
you  prayed  ;  the   evil   you  fear  comes,  the  good 
you  desire  is  denied,   notwithstanding  your  earn- 
est supplication.     But  does   it  follow  that  your 
prayer  is  slighted  ?     Believe  it  not.     What  you 
designed  was,   to   ask  blessings ;  you  named  the 
things  which  you  esteemed  such  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  you  knew  that  your  judgment  was  fallible. 
If  God  has  refused  the  things  specified,  it  is  be  - 
cause  in  his  judgment  they  would  not  prove  bles- 
sings, and  he  has  bestowed  in  their  stead,   an  in- 
crease of  faith,  which  is  a  real  blessing.     Or  per- 
haps I  may  say,   he  has  proposed  to  you  a  disci- 
pline of  your  faith,  which  will  prove  a  transcend- 
ent good,  unless,   by  your  blind  discontent  and 
misuse  of  it,  you  turn  it  into  a  curse. 


91 

It  will  follow  from  these  remarks,  that  we  are 
to  dwell  in  prayer  on  topics,  rather  of  a  spiritual, 
than  of  a  temporal  nature  ;  should  ask  such  things 
as  relate  rather  to  our  character  than  to  our  condi- 
tion, rather  to  our  religious  than  to  our  worldly 
prosperity.     For  these  being  the  chief  objects  of 
desire  and  happiness   (so  much  so  that  our  peti- 
tions for  earthly  good  oftentimes  receive  no  re- 
ply  but  in  the   state  of  our  own  minds),  it  must 
follow  that  they  should  be  our  chief  objects  of  in- 
terest and  desire  in  our  exalted  hours  of  commu- 
nication with  God.     Our  religious   addresses  in 
those  hours  are  made  up  of  adoration,  thanksgiv- 
ing,  confession,    petition.     Now   tv,o    of   these, 
adoration   and   confession,  relate  to  spiritual  ob- 
jects exclusively.  The  other  two  relate  to  objects 
of  both  a  spiritual  and  temporal   character,  the 
blessings  and  wants  of  both  soul  and  body.     But 
it  is  plain  that  the  former  far  exceed  the  latter  in 
number  and  in  importance,  and  should,  therefore, 
occupy  the  larger  share  of  attention.     If,  then, 
you  would  do  what  is  most  consonant  to  the  na 
ture  of  the   exercise,   and    your  own  most  real 
wants  ;  if  you  would  receive  blessings  correspond- 
ing to  the  petitions  you  express ;  you  will  dwell 
principally  on  spiritual  and  immortal  good  ;  seek- 
ing first  of  all,  in  prayer   as  at  all  times,  *  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  its  righteousness.'  You  will 
do  this,  also,  if  you  would  copy  the  pattern  which 


92 

our  Lord  has  given ;  for  of  the  seven  sentences  of 
the  prayer  which  he  taught  his  disciples,  only 
one  has  relation  to  man's  temporal  condition.  You 
will  do  it,  if  you  would  imitate  our  great  Exem- 
plar and  Master,  whose  recorded  prayers  have  ex- 
clusive regard  to  the  welfare  of  his  spiritual  king- 
dom, and  the  bestowment  of  internal  blessings. 

And  it  is  not  to  the  example  alone  of  the  Savi- 
our that  you  are  to  have  reference  in  your  prayers. 
You  are  also  to  regard  him,  as  the  Mediator, 
through  whom  they  are  to  be  offered.  It  belongs 
to  the  system  of  our  religion,  that  the  thought  of 
its  Founder  should  be  associated  in  tlie  minds  of 
his  disciples  with  all  that  they  are  and  do ;  with 
their  sense  of  obligation,  and  their  sentiments  of 
piety.  They  are  *  to  do  every  thing  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord  Jesus;'  with  a  consciousness  of  their 
connexion  with  him,  and  of  their  dependence  up- 
on the  instruction,  motives,  and  strength  they 
have  received  from  him.  They  are  *  to  walk  by 
faith  in  the  son  of  God.'  His  image  is  to  be  blend- 
ed with  their  whole  life.  Especially  is  this  to  be 
the  case  in  the  acts  of  life  which  are  strictly  and 
peculiarly  religious.  *  Whatsoever  ye  ask  in  my 
name,  believing.'  *  Giving  thanks  unto  God  and 
the  Father  by  him.'  It  is  only  through  his  in- 
struction, authority,  and  encouragement,  that  they 
know  their  privilege  of  filial  worship,  and  are  en- 
abled so  to  offer  it,  that  they  may  look  for  accept- 


93 

ance.  The  hope  of  pardon  on  the  confession  of 
sin  is  grounded  upon  what  he  has  done,  suffered, 
and  declared  ;  and  the  confidence  with  which  the 
penitent  seeks  forgiveness  and  life,  is  owing  to  his 
trust  in  the  word  of  Jesus,  and  his  heing  able  to 
lean  on  him  as  a  friend  and  advocate,  when  he 
casts  himself  a  suppliant  before  God.  Understand 
then,  that  the  acceptable  prayer  is  that  which  is 
made  in  the  name  of  the  great  Intercessor ;  and 
let  your  heart  be  warmed  and  emboldened  in  your 
devotions  by  the  consciousness  of  your  relation  to 
him  '  whom  the  Father  heareth  always.' 

I  will  add  but  two  further  remarks  before  clos- 
ing this  topic.  First,  I  have  all  along  assumed, 
that  I  am  addressing  a  person  sincerely  engaged 
in  the  pursuit  of  religious  attainments.  This  sin- 
cerity of  pursuit  is  a  fundamental  requisite,  with- 
out which  all  exhortations,  means,  assistance,  sa- 
crifices, will  be  only  thrown  away.  If,  therefore, 
after  having  made  some  effort  after  a  spirit  of  de- 
votion, in  pursuance  of  the  course  recommended, 
you  find,  as  men  sometimes  do,  that  you  derive 
from  it  neither  improvement  nor  satisfaction,  I 
recommend  to  you  to  examine  whether  you  are 
really  in  earnest ;  whether  you  do,  actually,  in 
your  heart, desire  religious  improvement;  whether 
in  short,  there  be  not  in  you  a  lurking  preference 
for  your  present  state  of  mind,  and  an  attachment 
to  some  passion,  taste,  or  pursuit,   incompatible 


94 

with  a  zealous  devotedness  to  Christian  truth,  and 
a  suitable  attention  to  the  discipline  which  it  de- 
mands. Many  are  no  doubt  prevented  from  ad- 
vancement by  secret  hindrances  of  this  nature,  of 
whose  operation  they  are  not  at  all  aware.  If, 
upon  inquiry,  you  cannot  discover  that  it  is  so 
with  you,  then  examine  strictly  the  methods  you 
have  pursued,  and  the  observances  you  have  prac- 
tised. You  will  probably  find  that  they  have 
been  in  some  particulars  injudiciously  selected, 
or  improperly,  or  insufficiently  attended  ;  that 
you  have  failed  in  a  resolute,  steadfast,  systematic 
adherence  to  your  own  rules  ;  that  you  have  ha- 
bitually allowed  yourself  in  something  wrong,  or 
neglected  something  right.  Look  after  your  mis- 
take. When  you  shall  have  discovered  and  cor- 
rected it,  you  may  be  certain  of  securing  the  im- 
provement you  desire. 

Secondly,  take  heed  that  you  do  not  allow  your- 
self to  fancy,  that  an  observance  of  these  or  simi- 
lar rules  constitutes  all  your  duty  under  this  head. 
Do  not  forget,  that  the  devotion  which  Christi- 
anity teaches,  is  nothing  less  than  perpetually 
thinking,  feeling,  and  acting  as  becomes  a  child 
of  God, — a  perpetual  worship.  This  is  the  end 
at  which  you  are  to  aim  ; — an  end,  however,  which 
is  not  to  be  attained  without  the  use  of  means  ; 
and  the  directions  in  the  preceding  pages  are  de- 
signed simply  to  point  out  some  of  the  means. 


95 

Some  persons  do  not  need  snch  directions.  For 
them  they  are  not  designed.  But  there  are  others 
to  whom  they  must  be  welcome  and  wholesome. 
Let  such  use  them,  but  without  forgetting  that 
they  are  means  only.  Let  them  guard,  from  the 
first  and  always,  against  the  idea,  that  the  prac- 
tice of  these  will  secure  the  great  object,  without 
any  further  exertion  or  sacrifice  ;  that  to  be  de- 
vout men,  they  have  only  to  observe  stated  seasons 
and  perform  stated  acts.  There  cannot  be  a  more 
pernicious  error.  It  is  at  variance  with  the  whole 
nature  and  spirit  of  Christianity.  God  is  to  be 
served  by  the  entire  life  ;  by  its  actions  as  well 
as  its  thoughts,  its  duties  as  well  as  its  desires,  its 
deeds  as  well  as  its  feelings. 

The  religious  man  must  have  the  frame  of  his 
mind  and  the  tenor  of  his  conduct  at  all  times  re- 
ligious ;  in  the  market  and  the  family,  no  less 
than  in  the  closet  and  the  church.  Indeed,  con- 
sidering how  much  more  of  life  is  spent  abroad  in 
action  and  trial,  than  is  passed  in  the  worship  and 
contemplation  of  retirement,  it  is  plainly  of  great- 
er consequence  to  watch  and  labor  in  the  world, 
than  in  private.  Besides  that  it  is  easier  to  be 
religiously  disposed  for  an  hour  a  day,  when  read- 
ing the  Bible  or  kneeling  at  the  altar,  than  it  is 
to  be  so  during  the  many  other  hours  which  are 
full  of  the  world's  temptations,  and  when  all  the 
irregular  passions  are  liable  to  be  excited.     Re- 


96 

member,  then,  to  try  your  prayers  by  your  life  ; 
you  may  know  how  sincere  they  are,  by  their 
agreement  or  disagreement  with  your  habitual 
sentiments  and  conduct.  Regulate  your  life  by 
your  prayers ;  in  vain  do  you  think  yourself  reli- 
gious, if  you  go  with  holy  words  and  humble  con- 
fession to  the  Divine  presence,  but  at  other  times 
live  in  thoughtlessness  and  sin.  True  religion  is  a 
single  thing.  Devout  exercises  form  a  part  of  its 
exhibition ;  holy  living  forms  another  part.  Un- 
less they  exist  together,  it  is  to  no  purpose  that 
they  exist  all.  To  separate  them  is  to  destroy 
the  religion.  To  this  consideration,  then,  let  your 
perpetual  and  vigilant  attention  be  given  ;  and  be 
satisfied  with  your  hours  of  devotion,  only  when 
they  exercise  a  sacred  and  constant  influence  over 
the  condition  of  your  mind  and  life,  and  have 
made  them  holy  unto  the  Lord. 

IV.  Preaching. 

From  the  more  private  means  of  religious  im- 
provement, we  pass  to  the  consideration  of  those 
which  are  in  their  nature  public. 

Preaching  is  a  divine  institution ;  and  its  au- 
thority and  wisdom  have  been  illustriously  justi- 
fied in  the  success  which  has  attended  it  in  every 
age  of  the  church.  It  is  to  a  publication  from 
the  lips  of  living  teachers,  that  the  gospel  owes 
its  spread  through  so  large  a  portion  of  the  globe. 
At  its  first  introduction,  at  its  reformation,  and  in 


97 

its  present  diffusion,  it  has  been  the  *  company  of 
the  preachers  *  that  has  arrested  attention  to  its  di- 
vine truths,  and  subdued  the  hearts  of  men  to  its 
holy  power.  And  it  always  must  be  the  case, 
however  great  may  be  the  efficacy  of  those  more 
personal  instruments  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
that  the  pulpit  shall  be  the  main  engine  for  the 
incitement  and  instruction  of  the  individual  mind, 
and  the  maintenance  of  the  power  of  religion  in  the 
Christian  world. 

Multitudes,  however,  habitually  attend  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel,  with  little  profit,  and 
with  no  adequate  apprehension  of  its  purpose  or 
value.  Habit,  thoughtlessness,  inattention,  world- 
liness,  cause  its  sublime  instructions  to  be  unheed^ 
ed,  and  render  its  powerful  appeals  unimpressive. 
It  may  have  been  so  with  you  in  times  past.  But 
if  you  are  now  truly  awake  to  the  necessity  of 
studying  the  improvement  of  your  character,  and 
making  God's  will  the  rule  of  your  life,  you  will 
listen  eagerly  to  the  preaching  of  his  truth,  and 
drink  it  in  as  a  thirsty  man  water.  I  say  nothing, 
therefore,  to  urge  the  duty  of  attendance  in  the 
house  of  prayer.  You  will  esteem  it  one  of  your 
privileges  ;  and  will  feel  that,  however  imperfectly 
the  word  may  be  dispensed,  it  is  yet  full  of  a  di- 
vine savor,  and  profitable  to  any  one  who  seeks 
his  soul's  good  rather  than  his  mind's  entertain- 
ment. 

K 


98 

tn  order  to  the  greatest  advantage  from  tlii^ 
duty,  it  is  well,  in  the  first  place,  to  give  heed  to 
the  manner  in  which  the  other  hours  of  the  sab- 
bath are  spent.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  one 
considerable  cause  of  the  inefficacy  of  preachings 
is  to  be  found  in  the  circumstance,  that  the  re* 
niainder  of  the  Sabbath  is  passed  in  a  manner  lit- 
tle likely  to  prepare  the  mind  for  its  religious 
services,  and  suited  to  obliterate  the  impressions 
received  from  them.  The  sentiments  excited  in 
holy  timej  instead  of  being  cherished,  are  checked 
and  smothered  by  the  uncongenial  engagements 
of  the  rest  of  the  day ;  and  Sunday  becomes  at 
length  even  a  day  for  hardening  the  heart,  through 
this  habitual  resistance  of  the  most  solemn  truths. 
For  when  exposed  to  their  frequent  repetition,  if 
it  do  not  yield  to  them,  it  must  inevitably  become 
callous  to  them.  This  evil  you  are  to  guard  against 
by  making  the  whole  occupation  of  the  day  har- 
monize with  that  portion  of  it,  which  is  spent  in 
public  worship.  And  to  do  this  implies  no  fana^ 
tical  recluseness  or  morose  sullenness.  It  implies 
nothing  but  the  endeavour  of  a  reasonable  man, 
who  finds  that  the  cares  of  the  six  days  tend  to 
distract  his  feelings  from  religion,  to  counteract 
them  on  the  day  set  apart  for  that  purpose.  It  is 
only  saying,  with  regard  to  all  worldly  occupa- 
tions, what  Burke  said  of  politics  in  the  pulpit; 
—Six  days  are  full  of  them,  and  six  days  are 


99 

enough  ;  let  us  give  one  day  to  something  better. 
You  will,  therefore,  be  careful  so  to  spend  your 
morning  hours,  that  you  shall  enter  the  sanctuary 
with  a  prepared  mind, — already  touched  with  a 
sense  of  God,  and  tuned  to  his  praise.  Your 
reading  and  your  thoughts  will  be  directed  to  this 
purpose  and  instead  of  cherishing  or  inviting  vain 
thoughts  and  a  light  state  of  feeling,  by  lounging 
over  a  newspaper,  or  a  novel,  or  by  conversation 
on  the  passing  events  of  the  day,  you  will  occupy 
yourself  on  such  subjects  as  shall  hallow  the  tem- 
per of  your  mind,  and  exclude  the  crowd  of  im- 
pertinent desires.  Then  yon  will  be  ready  to 
join  feelingly  in  the  public  service  of  your  Maker, 
and  listen  profitably  to  the  exhortations  of  the 
pulpit. 

You  have  doubtless  observed  in  your  own  case, 
and  heard  it  remarked  by  others,  that  the  same 
discourse  underdifferent  circumstances  seems  like 
a  very  different  thing  ;  that  what  at  one  time  is 
listened  to  with  pleasure  and  interest,  at  another 
is  heard  with  indifference.  To  what  can  this  be 
owing,  but  to  the  variation  in  the  hearer's  state  of 
mind  ?  The  discourse  is  the  same ;  but  it  ad- 
dresses itself  to  a  soul  at  one  time  tuned  to  the 
occasion  and  the  subject,  and  at  another  tuned  to 
something  else.  So  important  is  adaptation, — as 
might  be  illustrated  in  a  thousand  ways.  Hence 
you  will  study  to  carry  a  prepared  mind  to  the 


100 

hearing  of  the  word,  that  you  may  not  fail  of  re- 
ceiving the  utmost  edification.  Otherwise  you 
may  sit  under  the  most  powerful  ministry,  and 
hear  divine  truth  dispensed  with  an  eloquence 
worthy  of  angels,  and  yet  sit  unmoved.  It  can  be 
powerful  to  your  heart,  it  can  effectually  promote 
your  progress  in  the  Christian  life,  only  through 
your  own  preparation  to  receive  it,  and  in  pro- 
portion to  that  preparation. 

Let  me  also  caution  you  to  remember,  that  there 
is  good  and  important  matter  belonging  to  every 
subject  which  the  pulpit  may  treat ;  and  it  is  very 
unwise  (to  use  the  mildest  expression)  to  turn 
away  dissatisfied,  because  a  sermon  does  not  hap- 
pen to  fall  in  with  the  state  of  your  feelings.  Hear- 
ers are  often  guilty  of  great  injustice  in  this  way. 
They  are  too  ready  to  measure  the  preacher's  fi- 
delity by  the  degree  in  which  he  speaks  to  their 
own  immediate  experience.  They  are  earnestly 
engaged  in  particular  views,  feelings,  trains  of 
thought,  processes  of  experience,  which,  filling 
their  mind,  seem  to  them  all  in  all ;  and  if  the 
preacher  does  not  touch  upon  these,  they  condemn 
him  as  dry,  cold,  and  jejune.  But  they  should 
consider,  that  there  are  other  minds  to  be  suited 
besides  their  own,  arid  that  what  is  so  ill  adapted 
to  themselves,  may  be  precisely  what  is  needed 
by  others ;  nay,  precisely  what  they  themselves 
may  need  at  another  time.     Instead  of  expressing 


101 

dissatisfaction,  they  should  rejoice  that  every  one 
receives  in  turn  a  portion  adapted  to  him,  and  en- 
deavor to  elicit  something  applicable  to  themselves. 
If  they  will  but  seek,  they  will  often  find  a  sea- 
sonable word  when  they  least  expect  it.  Let  me 
entreat  you  to  make  this  your  habit.  If  you  do 
not,  it  is  plain  that  many  Sundays  will  be  lost  to 
you  (for  you  cannot  have  your  own  case  always 
treated),  and  you  will  moreover  become  afastidi- 
our  and  querulous  hearer,  discontented  with  your- 
self, and  uncomfortable  to  others.  But  if  you 
resolutely  bring  your  mind  to  take  an  interest  in 
whatever  you  hear,  you  will  always  find  cause  for 
contentment  and  satisfaction,  if  not  for  edification 
and  delight. 

Few  things  are  more  hostile  to  such  attendance 
on  preaching  as  shall  promote  religious  improve- 
ment, tha^  the  habit  of  listening  to  sermons  as 
literary  or  rhetorical  effbrts,  and  for  the  gratifi* 
cation  of  a  literary  taste.  From  the  very  nature 
of  the  case,  it  must  result  in  constant  dissatisfac- 
tion. For  let  it  be  considered  how  few  of  all  the 
authors  who  have  published  books,  are  able  to 
give  this  gratification  ;  and  can  it  then  be  expect- 
ed of  every  preacher  ?  How  small  a  proportion 
of  the  thousands  who  have  preached,  have  printed 
their  sermons  ;  and  how  few  of  these  have  a  place 
among  the  eminent  names  of  literature.  Hence 
it  is  impossible  that  every  preacher  should,  every 
K  2 


lOQ 

Sunday,   satisfy  a  man  who  has  formed  his  taste 
on  printed  specimens  of  excellence,    and    who 
comes  to  gratify  it  at  church.  It  is  inevitable  that 
such  a  one  should  be  disappointed  and  displeased 
far  more  often  than  he  shall  be  tolerably  gratified. 
Those   who,  on  this  ground,   are   accustomed    to 
speak  harshly  of  ministers  and   to  excite  discon- 
tent in  the  community,  would  do  well  to  reflect 
on  the  unreasonableness  of  the   requisition  ;  and 
learn  that  they  injure  themselves  by  looking  for 
what  they  cannot  expect  to  find,  to  the  neglect  of 
that  substantial  good  which  alone  is  intended  to 
be  conveyed.  But  he  who  thinks  only  of  improve- 
ment and  the  religious  exercise  of  his  mind,  will 
always  find  something  to  engage  and  satisfy  him. 
Distinguished  talent,  there  may  not  be,  nor  origi- 
nal thought,  nor  striking  images,  nor  tasteful  com- 
position, nor  eloquent  declamation  ;  but  Christian 
truth,  old  and  familiar  perhaps,  but  still  high  and 
important,  there  always  will  be.     Dwelling  upon 
this,  excited  by  it  to  reflection,  occupied  in  study- 
ing by  its  light  his  own  character  and  prospects, 
and  the  perfections  and  purposes  of  God,  he  has 
no  lack   of  interesting   thought.     The   preacher 
becomes  but  a  secondary  object.     His  God,  his 
duty,  his  salvation,  these  are  the  topics  on  which 
his  mind  runs  ;  and  these  he  can  contemplate,  he 
will  not  be  hindered  from  contemplating  them, 
whatever  may  be  the  feebleness  or  deficiencies  of 
him  who  ministers  at  the  altar. 


103 

Bacon  has  laid  down  a  rule  for  profitable  read- 
ing, which  ought  to  be  sacredly  applied  to  preach- 
ing, by  those  who  would  listen  to  it  profitably  : 
'liead,  not  to  contradict  and  confute,  nor  to  be- 
lieve and  take  for  granted,  nor  to  find  talk  and 
discourse,  but  to  weigh  and  consider. '  What  you 
hear  from  your  minister,  '  weigh  and  consider  ' 
for  a  religious  end  and  a  personal  application.  To 
listen  as  a  critic,  with  a  fastidious  nicety  about 
diction,  and  a  captious  sensibility  to  style,  is  a 
sure  method  to  defeat  what  should  be  the  first 
object  with  the  hearer,  as  it  is  the  great  purpose 
of  the  speaker.  For  which  reason,  it  has  been 
remarked,  we  are  not  to  be  surprised  that  Paul, 
with  all  his  energy  of  speech,  made  so  few  eon- 
verts  and  gathered  no  church  among  the  Atheni- 
ans ;  the  sensitive  and  intellectual  taste,  and  love 
of  ingenious  fancies,  which  distinguished  then!, 
formed  a  habit  of  mind  peculiarly  fitted  to  destroy 
the  capacity  for  receiving  any  strong  and  pro- 
found impressions. 

In  the  next  place,  if  you  think  that  when  you 
leave  the  house  of  God,  you  may  discharge  from 
your  mind  the  thoughts  and  sentiments  there  ex- 
cited ;  if  you  immediately  join  in  frivolous  socie- 
ty and  ordinary  conversation  ;  if  you  occupy  your 
time  in  making  visits  of  ceremony,  or  in  reading 
the  Sunday  newspaper  and  books  of  amusement, 
you  can  derive  little  advantage  from  the  service 


in  which  you  have  engaged.  However  serious 
may  have  been  your  attendance,  however  earnest 
the  wish  for  improvement,  you  are  taking  the 
surest  method  to  render  it  all  vain.  The  word 
spoken  must  be  treasured  up,  the  counsels  of  wis- 
dom must  be  made  to  abide  in  the  heart,  the  in- 
structions and  warnings  of  Heaven  must  be  fixed 
by  reflection  and  thought,  or  the  impressions  you 
have  received  will  be  transitory,  and  the  good  pur- 
poses which  spring  up  within  you  will  pass  away 
like  the  early  dew.  If  the  preacher  have  pre- 
sented arguments  for  the  truth  of  Christianity,  or 
for  the  support  of  any  of  its  great  doctrines,  of 
what  use  has  this  b'een  to  you,  if  you  shall  know 
nothing  about  them  to-morrow  ?  And  how  can 
you  hope  to  remember  what  is  so  difficult  to  be 
retained,  if  you  take  no  pains  to  refresh  your  mind 
with  it  by  immediate  retirement  and  contempla- 
tion ?  If  he  have  been  urging  you  to  the  study  of 
your  own  heart,  and  pointing  out  the  sources  of 
self-deception,  and  the  means  of  preservation 
against  the  sins  which  easily  beset  you,  and  you 
have  been  affected  and  humbled,  and  made  to  re- 
solve on  greater  watchfulness  ;  of  what  avail  will 
this  be,  if  you  immediately  abandon  yourself  to 
frivolous  topics  of  thought  ?  and  how  are  you  any 
the  better  prepared  for  the  temptations  and  trials 
of  to-morrow,  if  you  thus  drive  froiji  your  mind 
those  views  which  were  to  strengthen  you  ?     Or 


105 

if  he  have  presented  to  you  the  elevating  truths 
respecting  God,  and  heaven,  and  man's  prospects 
of  glory,  and  thus  raised  in  your  spirit  a  glow  of 
divine  love,  and  a  sense  of  your  exalted  destiny, 
and  you  at  once  turn  from  it  all  to  employments 
and  tlioughts  which  are  wholly  of  earth ;  then  is 
not  that  holy  excitement  worse  than  lost  ?  have 
you  not  done  something  to  harden  your  heart,  and 
render  it  less  capable  of  receiving  the  same  im- 
pression again  ?  For  you  have  resisted  its  mo- 
tions, and  quenched  its  fire,  by  calling  it  back  to 
this  lower  world  when  it  was  just  beginning  to 
delight  itself  in  heaven. 

Depend  upon  it,  that  the  mere  attendance  up 
on  public  worship  is  very  insufficient,  without 
some  care  to  fix  its  impressions  afterward,  and  to 
recall  and  strengthen  what  you  have  heard  and 
enjoyed.  It  is  v/ise,  therefore,  to  go  back  from 
church  to  retirement,  there  to  think  over  tlie  truths 
that  you  have  heard,  refresh  the  feelings  that  you 
have  indulged,  apply  to  your  conscience  the  doc- 
trine delivered,  and  supplicate  the  divine  blessing. 
By  habitually  doing  this,  you  will  in  time  become 
possessed  of  a  large  fund  of  religious  information 
and  moral  truth,  which  otherwise  might  have  been 
lost  to  you  ;  and  instead  of  being  in  the  condition 
of  those,  who  cannot  perceive  that  the  pulpit  has 
ever  taught  them  any  thing,  you  will  find  it  a  most 
efficient  and  persuasive  instructer. 


106 

It  is  a  custom  with  some  persons,  to  make  a 
record  of  the  discourses  which  they  have  heard, 
entering  in  a  book  the  texts  and  subjects,  to- 
gether with  a  brief  sketch  of  the  train  of  remark. 
This  is  a  very  commendable  and  useful  custom, 
provided  it  be  not  allowed  to  take  off  one's 
thoughts  from  the  duty  of  self-application,  and 
do  not  become  a  mere  eifort  of  memory  and  trial 
of  skill.  If  this  be  avoided,  the  practice  will  be 
found  useful  in  many  respects.  The  exercise  of 
writing  greatly  assists  that  of  thinking,  and  dis- 
covers to  one  whether  his  ideas  are  distinct  and 
clear.  It  enables  and  compels  him  to  look  closely 
at  the  subject,  so  that  he  cannot  dismiss  it  with 
the  cursory  and  impatient  examination  which  he 
might  be  otherwise  tempted  to  give  it.  It  enables 
him  afterwards  to  read,  with  distinctness,  the  im- 
pressions which  he  received,  and  to  revive  the 
purposes  which  he  formed  in  consequence  of  them. 
His  record  becomes  a  spiritual  monitor,  remind- 
ing him,  whenever  he  consults  it,  of  the  lessona 
he  has  learned,  and  the  expostulations  he  has 
heard  ;  and  prompting  him  to  a  more  definite 
comparison  of  his  actual  attainments  with  the 
standard  which  has  been  placed  before  him.  The 
advantages,  which  may  thus  be  derived  from  it, 
will  be  far  more  than  a  compensation  for  all  the 
trouble  attending  it. 

But  whether  you  make  such  memoranda  or  not 


107 

the  practice  of  recalling  to  mind  the  instructions 
and  reflections  of  God's  house,  if  systematically 
pursued,  will  save  you  from  the  pain  of  making 
the  complaint  which  we  hear  from  so  many,  that 
they  cannot  remember  what  they  have  heard^ 
oftentimes  not  even  the  text ;  and  this  too  from 
persons,  who  can  repeat  all  the  particulars  of  a 
long  story  to  which  they  have  listened^  or  a  longer 
conversation  in  which  they  have  taken  part.  Why 
this  difference  ?  Partly  because  they  attended 
with  greater  interest  to  the  story  and  the  conver- 
sation, partly  because  these  are  more  easily  re- 
membered than  a  formal  discourse,  but  princi- 
pally because  these  are  matters  that  they  are  ac- 
customed to  recall  to  mind  and  repeat,  which 
they  have  not  been  accustomed  to  do  in  regard  to 
sermons.  The  want  of  practice  is  the  principal 
difliculty.  Make  it  an  object  always  to  remember, 
and  be  in  the  habit  of  going  over  again  in  your 
mind,  the  principal  topics,  and  you  will  not  be 
troubled  with  want  of  memory. 

I  should  do  wrong,  however,  if  I  did  not  here 
speak  a  word  of  comfort  to  those  humble  and 
sincere  Christians,  whose  advantages  in  early  life 
were  not  such  as  to  enable  them  to  form  any 
habits  of  intellectual  exertion,  and  who  are  in 
consequence  subject  to  a  weakness  of  memory, 
which  they  have  struggled  against  in  vain,  and 
which  is  a  source  of  constant  unhappiness  to  them. 


108 

Every  thing  they  hear  from  the  pulpit  slips  from 
their  minds,  even  if  it  have  highly  moved  and  de- 
lighted them ;  and  they  fear  that  this  is  a  sign  of 
unprofitableness  and  sin.  To  such  it  may  be  well 
to  recommend  the  reply  of  John  Newton  to  one 
who  came  to  him  sorrowing  with  the  same  com- 
plaint. You  forget,  said  he,  what  was  preached 
to  you.  So  too  you  forget  upon  what  food  you 
dined  a  week  or  a  month  ago  ;  yet  you  are  none 
the  less  sure  that  you  received  nourishment  from 
it.  And  no  doubt  also  that  your  spiritual  food 
nourished  you,  though  you  have  forgotten  in  what 
it  consisted.  So  long  as  you  received  it  with 
pleasure,  and  a  healthy  digestion,  and  it  has  kept 
you  a  living  and  growing  soul,  it  can  be  of  no  con- 
sequence wheher  you  can  particularly  remember 
it  or  not. 

Finally,  preaching,  hov/ever  ineffectual  it  may 
often  prove,  is  one  of  the  chief  means  of  grace,  and 
is  capable  of  being  made,  by  every  individual,  a 
principal  agent  in  his  religious  advancement.  Let 
it  be  so  to  you.  It  will  be  so,  if  you  attend  on  it 
in  a  right  spirit,  and  faithfully  strive  to  gain 
nourishment  from  it.  Do  not  let  it  be  your  shame 
and  guilt,  that  you  sit  year  after  year  within  hear- 
ing of  the  preacher's  voice,  and  yet  are  none  the 
better.  Do  not  suffer  it  to  be  with  yourself,  as 
it  is  with  many,  that  preaching  grows  less  inter- 
esting as  they  advance.  This,  it  is  true,  is  in  part 


109 

owing  to  the  nature  of  the  mind,  vrliicli  finds  a  de- 
light in  what  is  new  and  fresh,  which  it  does  not 
perceive  in  what  has  been  long  familiar.  There 
is  a  charm  in  listening  to  the  word  preached,  when 
the  soul  is  first  awakened  to  an  interest  in  the 
concerns  of  its  salvation,  and  devours  every  sen- 
tence as  a  hungry  man  his  food,  which  cannot  be 
fully  retained  in  cooler  and  maturer  years.  But 
if  the  charm  be  entirely  gone,  if  the  relish  be  al- 
together lost,  it  must  be  through  your  own  fault. 
It  must  be  because  you  have  not  watched  over  the 
tastes  and  susceptibility  of  your  mind,  but  have, 
through  neglect,  suffered  it  to  become  hardened. 
Be  but  faithful  to  yourself,  cherish  your  tender- 
ness of  spirit,  take  pains  to  keep  alive  the  ardor 
and  interest  of  your  younger  days,  and  you  will 
find  that  your  feelings  will  not  become  wholly 
dead  to  the  voice  of  the  preacher,  nor  will  time 
and  age  be  able  to  rob  you  of  this  source  of  your 
enjoyment.  The  ancient  philosopher,  on  whom 
has  been  well  bestowed  the  title  of  *  Rome's  least 
mortal  mind, '  in  writing  beautifully  of  old  age, 
tells  us,  that  the  great  reason  why  the  faculties 
of  men  are  impaired  in  the  declining  years  of  a 
long  life,  is,  that  they  cease  to  use  and  exercise 
them ;  and  that  any  man,  by  continuing  vigorously 
to  exert  them  as  in  earlier  life,  may  hope  to  re- 
tain them  to  the  last  in  something  of  their  origi- 
nal power.     The  remark   miy  be  applied  to  the 

L 


no 

old  age  of  the  Christian.  By  faithfully  watching 
over  and  exercising  his  feelings  and  emotions,  he 
may  retain  them  in  some  good  degree  of  liveli- 
ness and  vigor  to  the  latest  period.  And  although 
the  zest  with  which  he  hung  on  the  ministration 
of  the  word  in  the  first  ardor  of  his  youthful  faith 
may  be  gone,  he  will  maintain  a  sober  interest 
and  find  a  tranquil  delight,  suited  to  the  serenity 
of  his  fading  days,  and  to  the  peacefulness  of  the 
expectation  with  which  he  waits  the  summons  to 
go  home. 

V.  The  Lord's  Supper. 

This  interesting  rite  is  the  last  in  the  series  of 
Christian  means,  which  I  shall  mention.  It  is 
that  to  which  the  yoUng  disciple  is  accustomed  to 
look  forward  with  intense  feelingj  and  the  arrival 
at  which  constitutes  an  era  in  his  progress  fondly 
expected  and  fondly  remembered.  Sometimes  it 
appears  to  be  regarded  too  much  as  the  limit  of 
improvement,  the  goal  of  the  course,  the  prize  of 
the  victory,  after  which  the  believer  is  to  sit 
down  and  enjoy  in  security  the  attainments  lie  has 
made,  exempt  from  the  necessity  of  further  watch- 
fulness and  combat.  It  is  owing,  in  no  small  de- 
gree, to  the  prevalence  of  this  opinion,  that  so 
many  make  no  actual  or  perceptible  progress 
after  tlicir  arrival  at  the  Lord's  Table.  They 
esteem  it  less  as  the  means  and  incitement  of 
greater  improvement,  than  as  the  end  and  com- 


Ill 

pletiou  of  the  work  they  had  uudertaken ;  not  so 
much  a  refreshment  to  their  weakness  in  the 
trying  journey  of  duty,  as  the  festival  which  re- 
wards its  termination.  Be  on  your  guard  against 
this  erroneous  feeling.  Habitually  remember, 
that  your  vigilance  and  labor  are  to  end  only  at 
the  grave;  that  the  fight  lasts  as  long  as  life  ; 
that  the  crown  of  the  victor  is  *  laid  up  in  hea- 
ven ' ;  and  that  whatever  indulgences  may  be 
granted  here,  they  are  but  as  encouragements  to 
your  perseverance  and  strengtheners  to  your  weak- 
ness, designed  to  cheer  and  help  you  on  your  way ; 
not  seasons  of  repose  and  enjoyment,  but  of  re- 
collection and  preparation  ; — so  that  they  in  fact 
form  a  part  of  that  system  of  discipline,  by  which 
every  thing  below  is  made  to  try  and  prove  the 
character  of  man. 

In  this  light  you  will  view  the  peculiar  or- 
dinance of  our  faith, — as  a  privilege  and  indul- 
gence, but  also  as  a  pledge  and  incitement  to  ac- 
tivity in  duty.  From  the  moment  that  it  has  been 
your  purpose  to  become  a  follower  of  Christ,  you 
have  looked  forward  to  this  holy  feast  as  some- 
thing which  it  would  make  you  but  too  blest  to  be 
permitted  to  partake.  While  occupied  with  other 
means  of  improvement,  you  have  still  felt  that 
there  wss  one  thing  lacking,  and  have  perhaps 
been  stimulated  to  a  more  earnest  diligence  in  the 
use  of  them,  by  the  reflection  that  they  would  pre= 


pare  you  for  this  ultimate  and  superior  enjoyment. 
Such  is  the  very  common  experience  of  the  grow- 
ing Christian  ;  and  it  is  my  wish  to  show  you  how 
that  may  be  rendered  a  blessing  in  the  enjoyment, 
which  has  been  so  eagerly  desired  in  the  antici- 
pation. 

Settle  it  distinctly  in  your  mind,  that  this  or- 
dinance, so  far  as  relates  to  your  concern  in  it, 
has  a  twofold  purpose  :  first,  to  express  and  mani- 
fest your  faith  in  Christ,  and  your  allegiance  and 
attachment  to  him  ;  secondly,  to  aid  and  strength- 
en you  in  a  faithful  adherence  to  his  religion. 
That  is  to  say,  in  other  words,  by  your  attendance 
at  the  Lord's  table  you  declare  yourself  to  be, 
from  principle  and  affection,  a  Christian ;  and 
you  seek  to  revive  and  confirm  the  sentiments, 
purposes,  and  habits,  which  belong  to  that  cha- 
racter. These  are  the  two  objects  which  the  or- 
dinance is  intended  to  accomplish,  and  which  you 
are  to  have  constantly  in  view. 

By  considering  the  first  of  these,  you  will  be 
enabled  to  decide  how  soon,  and  at  what  period, 
you  ought  to  offer  yourself  for  this  celebration. 
Can  you  say,  that  you  are  in  principle  and  affec- 
tion a  follower  of  Jesus  Christ?  This  is  the 
question  you  are  to  put  to  yourself:  not  whether 
you  have  been  such  for  a  long  time ;  not  how 
great  attainments  you  have  made  ; — but,  are  you 
such  at  heart,  and  are  you  resolved  perseveringly 


lis 

to  maintain  this  character  ?  Look  at  this  question 
Ponder  its  meaning.  Put  it  to  yourself  faithfully. 
Do  nothing  with  haste  or  rashness,   but  proceed 
calmly  and  deliberately.     Then,  if  you  can  con- 
scieiitiously  reply  in  the  affirmative,   if  you  have 
already  shown  so  much  constancy  in  your  efforts, 
that  you  may  rationally  hope  to  persevere,  you 
may  Qiake  your  profession  before  men,  and  take 
the  promised  blessing.     Hasty  minds  have  some- 
times rushed  forward  too  soon,  aud  only  exposed 
their  own  instability,    and  brought  dishonor  on 
their  calling.   Be  not  therefore  hasty.    But  timid 
men  have  sometimes  hesitated  too  long ;  have  de- 
layed till  their  ardor  cooled,  till  they  fancied  they 
could  stand  and  flourish  without  any  further  help, 
till  death  or  age  overtook  them,    and  they  were 
called  to  meet  their  Lord  v/ithout  having  confess- 
ed him  before  men.     Beware,  therefore,  that  you 
delay  not  too  long.     To  deliberate  whether  we 
shall  observe  a  commandment  after  our  minds  are 
impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  duty  of  doing  so,  is 
to  break  it.      To  postpone  our  acceptance  of  a 
privilege,  when  we  feel  that  it  is  such,  and  know 
that  it  is  offered  to  ourselves,  is  to  refuse  it,  and 
to  forego   its  benefits.     He  who  believes,  and  is 
resolved  to  live  and  die  in  his  belief,  has  a  right 
to  this  ordinance  ;  he  is  under  his  Master's  ordejs 
to  attend  it ;  and  he  should  reflect,  that  obedience, 
to  be  acceptable,  should  be  prompt 
L  2 


114 

As  soon,  therefore,  as  you-r  attention  to  religi- 
ous things  has  siifliciently  prepared  and  settled 
your  mind,  you  will  solemnly  acknowledge  it  by 
this  outward  testimonial  of  faith.  So  far  the  or- 
dinance looks  to  the  past.  It  also  looks  to  the 
future ;  and  you  will,  secondly,  as  I  said,  use  it 
as  a  salutary  means  of  religious  growth,  appoint- 
ed to  this  end,  and  singularly  suited  to  accom- 
plish it.  You  will  regard  it,  and  attend  it,  as  one 
of  the  appropriate  instruments  by  which  you  are 
to  keep  alive,  and  carry  on  to  perfection,  that 
principle  of  spiritual  life,  which  has  had  birth 
within  you,  and  has  made  a  certain  progress 
toward  maturity. 

It  is  a  means  singularly  fitted  to  accomplish 
this  end,  because  it  is  an  ordinance  at  pnce  so  af- 
fecting and  so  comprehensive.  Aft'ecting,  by 
bringing  directly  before  us,  in  one  collected  vieiw, 
the  circumstances  under  which  it  was  instituted, 
and  the  purposes  of  Heaven  with  which  it  is  con- 
nected ; — the  trials  and  sufferings  of  the  Son  of 
man,  the  meekness  and  sublimity  of  his  submis- 
sion, the  tenderness  and  pathos  of  his  last  con- 
versation and  prayers,  the  desertion  in  which  he 
was  left  by  his  disciples,  the  insults  to  which  he 
was  exposed  from  his  ei^emies,  the  torture  in 
which  he  died,  submissive  and  forgiving  ;  and  all 
this,  that  he  might  seal  the  truth  which  he  had 
taught^  and  provide  salvation  for  miserable  men. 


115 

It  is  true  that  all  this  is  familiar  to  the  mind,  and 
often  brought  before  it  in  other  acts  of  worship. 
But  here  it  forma  the  express  subject  of  contem- 
plation and  prayer.  Here  it  is  set  before  us  more 
evidently  and  vividly  by  the  circtim stances,  the 
forms,  the  apparatus  of  the  occasion.  It  is  made 
the  special  object  of  regard,  and  flierefore  is  suit- 
ed, in  a  peculiar  manner,  to  affect  us. 

But  it  has  another  advantage.  It  is  as  com- 
prehensive as  it  is  affecting.  In  its  primitive  in- 
tention, in  its  simple  purpose,  it  is  as  it  was  de- 
signated by  our  Lord  himself,  a  commemoration 
of  him  :  '  This  do  in  remembrance  of  me.'  And 
what  is  it  to  remember  Jesus,  rightly  and  effect- 
ually, but  to  call  to  mind  all  that  he  was,  and  did, 
and  suffeced  in  his  own  person  ;  and  all  the  bles- 
sings, advantages,  and  hopes,  which  have  result- 
ed, and  shall  forever  result  to  us,  from  his  minis- 
try and  death  ?  These  are  all  connected  together 
by  one  close  and  indissoluble  chain.  They  are 
united  in  inseparable  union  with  his  name  and 
memory.  When  we  reflect  on  our  Master,  our 
minds  cannot  pause  till  they  have  gone  over  all 
his  example  in  life  and  death,  have  recalled  his 
character  and  instructions,  pondered  on  the  ex- 
cellence and  beauty  of  his  truths,  the  glory  of 
his  promises,  the  bliss  of  his  inheritance.  Thence 
they  will  pass  on  to  survey  the  effects  which  he 
has  already  produced  on  the  condition  and  charac- 


116 

ter  of  the  world,  to  observe  the  contrast  of  our 
present  enviable  lot  with  what  it  would  have  been 
if  he  had  not  established   his  reign  among  men, 
and  to  contemplate  the  spreading  prospects  of  hu- 
man felicity  in  the  wider  extension  of  his  king- 
dom ; — the   removal  of  error,  corruption,  ignor- 
ance, and  sin,  and  the  establishment  of  universal 
i.'uth,    righteousness,     knowledge,     and    peace. 
Thence  they  will  pass  on  to  a  future  world  ;  to 
the  unseen  and  unimaginable  joys  of  a  life  in  which 
purity,  love,  and  happiness  shall  be  infinite  in 
measure  and  infinite  in  duration,  and  where  man, 
made  the  companion  of  angels,  freed  from  sin  and 
from  suffering,  shall  dwell  in  the  light  of  God's 
presence  without  end.     We  shall  recollect,  that 
for  all  our  hope  of  acceptance  to  that  world,  and 
of  pardon  for  the  sins  which  have  made  us  un- 
worthy of  it;  for  all  those  gifts  of  light  and  strength 
which  shall  prepare  us  for  it ;  for  all  the  tran- 
quillity, consolation,  and  support,  which  in  weak- 
ness, sorrow,  and  death,  the  knowledge  of  our  im- 
mortality imparts, — for  these  we  are  indebted  to 
Christ ;  without   whom  we  sliould  still  have  re- 
mained ignorant  on  this  first  of  subjects,  and  un- 
consoled  in  the  severest  trials.      So  that  in  one 
word,  there  is  no  topic  of  religion,  none  of  thanks- 
giving or  prayer,  none  of  penitence,  gratitude,  or 
iiope,  none  of  present  or  of  future  felicity  for  our- 
selves or  for  others,  which  is  not  called  up  to  the 


117 

mind,  by  the  faithful  use  of  this  simple  but  ex- 
pressive service.  As  tlie  believer  sits  at  his  Mas- 
ters table,  he  seems  to  himself  to  be  sitting  in 
his  presence  ;  together  with  his  image,  every  bles- 
sing of  his  faith  and  hope  rises  brightly  to  view  ; 
and  his  heart  burns  within  him,  as  he  contemplates 
the  grace  with  which  his  unworthy  spirit  has  been 
visited,  and  realizes  the  hope  that  he  shall  par- 
take in  his  own  person  of  the  glories  which  his 
Lord  revealed.  As  he  looks  unto  him,  *  the  au- 
thor and  finisher  of  our  faith,  who,  for  the  joy  set 
before  him,  endured  the  cross,despising  the  shame,' 
he  grows  strong  to  do  and  endure  likewise,  ani- 
mated by  the  hope  set  before  him,  of  entering  in- 
to the  joy  to  which  his  crucified  Master  has  as- 
cended. 

Is  it  not  then  evident,  that  you  have  here  a 
means,  of  singular  power,  to  keep  the  attention 
awake  and  the  heart  right ;  and  that  your  spirit 
can  hardly  slumber,  if  you  faithfully  open  it  to 
the  influences  of  this  observance  ?  Remember, 
however,  that  its  value  will  depend  on  yourself, 
and  the  manner  in  which  you  engage  in  it.  It 
has  no  mystical  charm,  no  secret  and  magic  power 
to  bless  you  against  your  will.  Every  thing  de- 
pends on  your  own  sincerity  and  devotion.  Earn- 
estly desire,  and  pray,  and  endeavor  that  it  may 
do  you  good,  and  it  will  do  you  good.  Go  to  it 
heedless,  thoughtless,  and  unprepared,  and  it  will 


118 

prove  to  you  an  idle  and  inefficient  ceremony.  The 
great  cause  why  so  many  derive  no  improvement 
from  the  repeated  performance  of  the  duty,  is, 
that  they  attend  it  with  inconsideration  and  cold- 
ness, and  with  little  purpose  or  desire  of  being 
affected  by  it.  Let  your  attendance  be  in  a  differ- 
ent state  of  mind.  Engage  resolutely  in  the  suit- 
able meditations ;  examine  yourself  before  and 
after  ;  come  to  the  celebration  with  a  temper  pre- 
pared for  worship,  and  leave  it  with  one  prepared 
for  duty. 

There  is  a  peculiar  feature  in  the  mode  of  ad- 
ministering this  ordinance,  distinguishing  it  from 
all  other  acts  of  social  worship,  to  which  it  may 
be  well  to  advert.  I  refer  to  the  pauses  during 
its  administration,  when  each  worshipper  is  left 
to  himself,  to  follow  his  own  reflections,  and  make 
his  own  prayers.  There  are  thus  united  in  the 
occasion  some  of  the  advantages  both  of  social  and 
of  private  devotion.  When  you  have  been  excited 
by  the  voice  of  the  minister,  and  of  general  prayer, 
you  are  permitted  to  retire  without  interference 
into  your  own  heart,  to  repeat  the  petitions  and 
confessions  with  a  more  close  reference  to  your 
own  case,  and  to  rnake  yourself  certain  that  you 
understand  and  feel  the  service  in  which  you  are 
engaged.  You  may  find  a  great  advantage  in 
these  silent  opportunities.  In  all  other  instances 
of  social  worship,  your  attention  is  required  with- 


119 

out  ceasing  to  some  external  process ;  and  you 
pass  on  from  one  part  of  the  service  to  another, 
with  little  opportunity  to  reflect,  as  you  proceed, 
or  to  pursue  the  suggestions  which  are  raade,  in 
the  manner  that  your  own  peculiar  condition  may 
require.  But  now  the  opportunity  exists  for  tho- 
roughly applying  to  your  own  personal  state,  all 
that  has  met  your  ear,  and  for  pouring  out  freely 
the  devotional  feeling  %^hich  has  been  excited. 
And  if  there  be  any  thing  favorable  to  the  soul, 
as  multitudes  of  devout  persons  have  insisted,  in 
occasions  for  contemplative  worship  in  the  pre- 
sence of  other  men,  then  in  this  respect,  the  Lord's 
supper  may  claim  a  superiority  over  every  other 
occasion  of  social  devotion. 

Many  persons,  I  am  aware,  find  it  diiiicult  so 
to  control  their  minds  as  to  render  these  silent 
moments  profitable.  But  to  such  persons  the 
very  difficulty  becomes  a  useful  discipline,  and 
the  occasion  should  be  valued  for  the  sake  of  it. 
To  aid  them  in  the  use  of  it,  and  to  prevent  its 
running  to  waste  iu  miserable  listlessness  and  idle 
rovings  of  the  mind,  it  might  be  well  that  they 
should  have  with  them  some  suitable  little  book 
of  meditations  and  reflections,  which  they  may 
quietly  consult  in  their  seats  as  guides  to  thought 
and  devotion. 

In  a  word,  prepare  your  mind  beforehand,  be 
faithful  during  the  celebration,  review  it  when  it 


120 

is  past,  and  you  will  never  have  reason  to  com- 
plain of  its  inefficacy  as  a  means  of  religious  im- 
provement. You  may  not  enj  oy  high  and  mysti- 
cal raptures ;  you  may  be  sometimes  overtaken 
with  languor  and  coldness  ;  but  as  long  as  in  sin- 
cerity, and  from  motives  of  duty,  you  present  your- 
self in  this  way  before  the  Lord,  you  will  find 
that  there  is  refreshment  and  encouragement  in 
the  act.  You  will  have  in  it  satisfaction,  if  not 
ecstasy  ;  and  will  never  doubt  that  something  of  the 
steadfastness  of  your  principle,  and  of  the  vigor 
of  your  hope,  is  owing  to  this  affectionate  appli- 
cation of  the  life,  example,  and  sacrifice  of  the 
Saviour,  in  the  way  of  his  appointment. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE   RELIGIOUS   DISCIPLINE   OF   LIFE. 

Next  to  the  means  to  be  employed  in  the  pro- 
motion of  personal  religion,  we  must  attend  to  the 
oversight  and  direction  of  the  character  in  general. 
The  means  of  which  we  have  taken  notice,  con- 
sist of  a  series  of  special  and  stated  exercises, 
whose  object  is  to  prepare  us  for  the  right  con- 
duct of  actual  life  ;  and  they  may  be  compared  to 
the  daily  drill  of  the  soldier,  by  which  he  is  made 
ready  for  the  field.     Watchfulness  and  self-disci- 


1^1 

pline  belong  to  all  times  and  occasions,  and  may 
be  compared  to  the  actual  use  which  the  soldier 
makes  of  his  preparation  in  the  camp  and  in  the 
field.  The  Christian  is  engaged  occasionally  in 
prayer,  meditation,  study,  and  the  communion  ; 
he  must  watch  and  govern  himself  always.  To 
the  former  duties  he  devotes  certain  appropriate 
seasons ;  the  latter  belong  to  every  season  and  all 
hours.  The  former  constitute  his  preparation  for 
the  Christian  life ;  the  latter  constitute  its  per- 
vading spirit.  No  punctuality  or  fidelity  in  the 
former  proves  a  man  to  be  religious  without  the 
latter.  And,  therefore,  having  stated  the  manner 
in  which  these  means  are  to  be  used,  it  is  neces- 
sary for  us  to  go  on  and  show  how  they  are  to  aff'ect 
the  whole  conduct  of  life,  and  make  it  an  exercise 
of  perpetual  self-discipline. 

Why  you  are  to  be  always  watchful  over  your- 
self, is  easily  perceived.  In  this  world  of  sensi- 
ble objects  and  temporal  pursuits,  you  are  con- 
stantly exposed  to  have  your  thoughts  absorbed 
by  surrounding  things,  and  withdrawn  from  the 
spiritual  objects  to  which  they  should  be  primarily 
attached.  You  are  incited  to  forget  them,  to 
slight  them,  to  counteract  them.  The  engage- 
ments, the  anxiety,  hurry,  and  pleasures  of  life, 
thrust  them  from  your  thoughts  ;  and  desires,  pro- 
pensities, passions  are  excited,  quite  inconsistent 
v/ith  the  calm  and  heavenward  aff"ections  of  Christ. 

M 


12^ 

All  tbese  tendencies  in  your  situation  are  to  be 
resisted.  You  are  to  be  ever  on  the  alert,  that 
they  may  not  lead  you  into  any  course  of  thought 
or  of  action  at  rariance  with  the  principles  to 
which  you  are  pledged  as  a  believer  in  Jesus 
Christ,  and  which  form  your  delight  in  your  hours 
of  devotional  enjoyment.  Sueh  inconsistency  may 
be  sometimes  witnessed.  But  what  can  be  more 
melancholy,  than  to  see  a  rational  being,  deeply 
convinced  of  the  truths  of  religion,  in  his  sober 
hours  of  thought  dwelling  on  them  with  fond  and 
delighted  contemplation,  excited  by  them  to  a 
devout  ardor  of  communion  with  God,  and  some- 
times to  a  glow  of  holy  rapture  which  seems  to 
belong  to  a  superior  nature  ; — and  then  sinking 
into  worldliness,  governing  himself  in  ordinary 
life  by  selfish  maxims  of  temporal  interest,  obey- 
ing the  passions  and  propensities  of  his  animal  be- 
ing, and,  in  a  word,  living  precisely  as  he  would 
do,  did  he  believe  that  there  is  nothing  higher 
or  better  than  this  poor  life.  I  ask,  what  can  be 
more  sad  or  pitiable  than  such  a  spectacle.  Let  it 
be  your  earnest  care  to  guard  against  so  deplora- 
ble an  inconsistency.  Now,  while  your  mind  is 
warm  with  its  early  interest  in  divine  things, — 
now,  while  they  press  upon  you  in  all  their  fresh- 
ness,— now,  take  heed  that  you  do  not  concentrate 
that  interest  and  use  all  its  strength,  in  the  luxury 
oi  devout  musing,  or  the  excitements  of  study  and 


123 

devotion ;  but  carry  it  into  your  whole  life,  let  it 
be  always  present  to  you  in  all  you  do,  in  all  you 
say ;  let  it  form  your  habitual  state  of  feeling, 
your  customary  frame  of  mind  and  temper.  Make 
it  your  constant  study,  that  nothing  shall  be  in- 
consistent with  it,  but  every  thing  partake  of  its 
power.  This  is  the  watchfulness  in  which  you 
must  live.  This  is  the  purpose  for  which  you 
must  exercise  over  yourself  an  unremitting  and 
ever  wakeful  discipline  ;  seeing  to  it,  like  some 
magistrate  over  a  city,  or  some  commander  over 
an  army,  that  all  your  thoughts,  dispositions, 
words,  and  actions  be  subject  to  the  law  of  God» 
and  the  principles  of  the  Christian  faith. 

Thus  it  is  plain  that  your  chief  business  as  well 
as  your  great  trial,  in  forming  a  Christian  cha^- 
racter,  lies  in  the  ordinary  tenor  of  life.  The 
world  is  the  theatre  on  which  you  are  to  prove 
yourself  a  Christian.  It  is  in  the  occurrences  of 
every  day,  in  the  relations  of  every  hour,  in  your 
affairs,  in  your  family,  in  your  conversation  with 
those  around  you,  in  your  treatment  of  them,  and 
your  reception  of  their  treatment ; — it  is  in  these, 
that  you  are  to  cultivate  and  perfect  the  character 
of  a  child  of  God  which  you  are  called  to  form. 
It  is  in  these,  that  your  passions  are  exercised, 
and  your  government  of  them  proved  ;  in  these, 
that  your  command  over  that  unruly  member,  the 
tongue,  is  made  known ;  in  these,  that  tempta- 


124 

tions  to  wrong  doing  and  evil  speaking  beset  yon, 
and  that  you  are  to  apply  your  religious  principle 
in  resisting  tliem.  In  these  it  is,  consequently, 
that  you  discover  whether  your  principle  is  real 
and  genuine,  or  whether  it  lies  only  in  feeling  and 
in  words.  In  the  quiet  of  your  chamber,  in  the 
devout  solitude  of  your  closet,  when  the  world  is 
«hut  out,  and  your  solemnized  spirit  feels  itself 
alone  with  God,  you  may  be  so  exalted  by  com- 
munion with  Heaven,  and  by  meditation  on  hea- 
venly truth,  that  all  things  earthly  shall  seem 
worthless  and  paltry,  and  every  desire  be  set  up- 
on things  above.  How  often,  at  such  times,  does 
it  appear  as  if  the  world  had  no  longer  any  charms, 
as  if  its  pleasures  and  pomp  could  never  again 
entice  or  delight  us.  Our  souls  are  above  them. 
We  have  no  more  relish  for  them  than  have  the 
angels.  And  if  this  were  all  which  is  required  of 
us,  if  nothing  opposed  to  this  delightful  frame  of 
mind  were  ever  to  cross  our  path,  the  Christian 
prize  would  be  already  won.  But  alas,  in  the 
closet,  and  in  the  third  heaven  of  contemplation, 
we  can  live  but  a  small  portion  of  the  time.  We 
must  come  down  from  the  mount.  We  must  enter 
the  crowd  and  distractions  of  common  life.  We 
must  engage  in  common  and  secular  affairs.  And 
there,  how  much  do  we  encounter  that  is  opposed 
to  the  calm  and  serene  spirit  of  our  contemplative 
hours  !  how  much  to  irritate  and  disturb  our  quiet 


V25 

self-possession  !  how  much  to  drive  from  our 
thoughts  the  subjects  on  which  we  have  been  mus- 
ing !  how  much  to  revive  the  relish  for  transient 
pleasures  and  worldly  enjoyments,  and  a  love  for 
the  things  which  minister  gratification  to  pride 
and  to  the  senses  !  In  the  midst  of  these  things, 
dangerous,  enticing,  seductive,  you  are  to  live  and 
walk  unchanged,  unseduced,  undefilcd ;  your 
heart  true  to  its  Master,  your  spirit  firm  in  its  al- 
legiance to  God,  and  your  soul  as  truly  devout 
and  humble,  as  when  worshipping  at  the  altar.  Is 
this  easy  ?  I  will  not  ask  ;  but,  is  it  not  your 
great,  your  paramount,  trial  ?  Is  it  not  here, 
that  the  very  battle  of  your  soul's  salvation  is  to 
be  fought ;  Is  not  this,  as  I  said,  the  very  field 
of  actual  and  decisive  war,  the  very  seat  of  the 
fearful  and  final  campaign  ?  And  the  prayers, 
and  studies,  and  observances  of  your  more  special 
devotion,  are  they  not  the  buckling  on  of  the  ar- 
mor, and  the  refreshing  and  preparing  of  the  soul 
for  its  real  combat  ? 

You  perceive,  then,  how  the  Christian  life  must 
consist  in  watchfulness  and  self-discipline  ;  how 
it  must  be  your  great  business  to  keep  a  faithful 
guard  over  yourself,  that  both  in  mind  and  con- 
duct nothing  may  exist  contrary  to  the  spirit  and 
precepts  of  Jesus  Christ. 

First  of  all,  this  guard  is  to  be  placed  upon  the 
Mind.  It  is  an  intellectual,  internal,  spiritual 
M  2 


12(3 

disciplice ;  tlie  oversight  and  management  of  the 
thoughts  and  affections. 

There  is  a  superficial  religion,  not  unpopular  io 
the  world,  which  is  limited  to  the  outward  conduct 
and  the  external  relations  of  life  ;  which  is  made 
to  consist  exclusively  in  rectitude  of  behavior  and 
uprightness  of  dealing.     Into  this  error  you  are 
not  likely  to  fall,  if  you  learn  your  religion  from 
the    New   Testament ;    and   I   should   not  have 
thought  it  needful    to  warn  you  against  it,  had  it 
not  been  so  prevalent.     Nothing  but  its  common- 
ness could  render  it  credible,  that  men  who  pos- 
sess the  Scriptures,   and  fancy  they  understand 
them,  or  who  are  simply  capable  of  observation  on 
the  nature  of  man  and  of  happiness,   should  per- 
suade themselves  that   the  character  which  God 
demands  and  will  bless,  is  independent  of  the  state 
of  the  mind,  and  the  frame  of  the  affections.     Is 
it  not  the  mind  which  constitutes  the  man  ?     Is  it 
not  the  mind  which  gives  its  moral  complexion  to 
the  conduct  ?     Is  it  not  certain  that  the  same  con- 
duct which  we  applaud  as  indicating  an  upright 
character,  we  should  disapprove  and  condemn  on 
discovering  that  it  proceeded  from  base  and  im- 
proper motives  ?     So  that  even  men  judge  of  char- 
acter rather  by  the  principle  which  actuates,  than 
by  the  actions  themselves.    How  much  more  com- 
pletely would  this  be  the  case,  if,  instead  of  being 
obliged  to  infer  the  principle  from  the  act,  they 


127 

could  discern  the  principle  itself,  as  it  lies  in  the 
mind  of  the  agent !  Who  in  that  case  would  ever 
judge  a  man  by  his  actions  alone  ?  Who  would 
not  always  decide  respecting  his  character,  from 
the  principles  and  motives  which  guided  him, — 
his  thoughts,  dispositions,  and  habitual  temper? 
And  thus  it  is  that  the  Deity  judges  and  decides. 
He  looks  not  on  the  outward  appearance,  but  on 
the  heart.  Consequently,  how  obvious  is  the  po- 
sition, that,  in  seeking  the  Christian  character, 
the  first  and  most  diligent  watch  must  be  placed 
over  the  inner  man.  *  Keep  thy  heart  with  all 
diligence  ;  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life.' 

This  implies  several  things.  First,  a  careful 
guard  over  the  Thoughts.  It  is  in  the  heedless 
disregard  of  the  thoughts,  that  corruption  often 
takes  its  rise.  They  are  suffered  to  wander  with- 
out restraint,  to  attach  themselves  without  check 
to  any  objects  which  attract  the  senses,  or  are  sug- 
gested in  conversation,  and  to  rove  uncontrolled 
from  one  end  of  the  world  to  another.  How  many 
hours  are  thus  wasted  in  unprofitable  musing, 
which  leaves  no  impression  behind  !  How  much 
of  life  is  made  an  absolute  blank!  Worse  still, 
how  often  do  sinful  fancies,  sensual  images, unlaw- 
ful desires,  take  advantage  of  this  negligence,  to 
insinuate  themselves  into  the  mind,  and  make  to 
themselves  a  home  there,  polluting  the  chambers 
of  the  soul,  and  rendering  purity  unwelcome  ! 


128 

This  is  the  beginning  of  evil  with  many  a  one, 
who,  from  this  want  of  vigilance  over  the  course 
of  his  thoughts,  has  surrendered  himself  to  frivol- 
ity and  sensuality,  without  being  aware  that  he 
was  in  peril.  Thoughtlessness,  mere  thoughtless- 
ness, has  left  the  door  open  to  sin,  and  the  same 
thoughtlessness  prevents  the  detection  of  the  in- 
truder. 

You  may  fancy  that  your  present  preference 
for  profitable  subjects  of  thought,  is  such  that  you 
are  in  no  danger  from  this  source.  But  beware 
of  trusting  to  any  present  disposition.  If  you  be- 
come confident  you  will  fall ;  and  the  rather,  be- 
cause the  beginning  of  this  peril  is  so  subtle  and 
sly.  Believe  that  the  danger  is  real  and  immi- 
nent, or  it  is  scarcely  possible  that  you  should 
not  suffer  from  it.  You  may  not,  indeed,  fall  a 
victim  to  irregular  desires,  and  hurtful  immorali- 
ties ;  but  the  habit  of  unwatched  thought  will 
weaken  your  control  over  your  mind,  will  dimin- 
ish your  power  of  self-government,  and  rob  j^ou  of 
that  vigorous  self-possession,  alive  to  every  occa- 
sion, and  prompt  at  every  call,  which  forms  the 
decision  of  character  that  ought  to  belong  to  him 
who  professes  to  follow  the  energetic  principles 
of  Christian  morality.  So  that,  if  you  would  be 
saved  from  an  unbecoming  weakness  of  mind,  and 
its  possible,  not  to  say  probable,  consequences, 
ungoverned  desires  and  passions,   keep  a  guard 


1^9 

upon  your  thoughts.  Let  your  morning  and  even- 
ing prayer  be,  that  you  may  live  thoughtfully. 
And  when,  in  the  business  of  the  day,  your  hands 
are  occupied,  but  your  mind  free  to  think,  keep 
yourself  attentive  to  your  thoughts.  Inquire  fre- 
quently how  they  are  engaged.  Direct  them  to 
useful  and  innocent  subjects.  Think  over  the  books 
you  have  been  reading  ;  rehearse  to  yourself  the 
knowledge  you  have  gained  ;  call  up  the  sermons 
you  have  heard  ?  repeat  the  passages  of  scripture 
you  know.  By  methods  like  these,  take  care  that 
even  your  empty  hours  minister  to  your  improve- 
ment. Paley  has  truly  observed,  that  every  man 
has  some  favorite  subject  to  which  his  mind  spon- 
taneously turns  at  every  interval  of  leisure  ;  and 
that  with  the  devout  man  the  subject  is  God* 
Hence  the  watching  over  your  thoughts  furnishes 
you  with  a  ready  test  of  your  religious  condition  ; 
it  exposes  to  you  the  first  and  faintest  symptoms 
of  religious  decline,  and  enables  you  to  apply  an 
immediate  remedy. 

If  the  thouglits,  which  may  be  expressed  in 
words,  are  to  be  thus  guarded,  the  Temper  and 
Feelings,  which  are  often  so  indefinable  in  lan- 
guage, require  a  no  less  anxious  guardianship.  In 
the  perplexities  and  trials  of  daily  life,  in  the  con- 
flict with  the  various  tempers  and  frequently  per 
verse  dispositions  of  those  around  us,  in  the  little 
crosses,  the  petty  disappointments,  the  trifling  ills 


130 

which  are  our  perpetual  lot,  we  are  exposed  to 
lose  that  calm  equanimity  of  mind  which  the 
Christian  should  habitually  possess.  We  are  lia- 
ble to  be  ruffled  and  irritated,  and  to  feel  and  dis- 
play another  spirit  than  that  gentleness  which 
bears  all  things,  and  is  not  easily  provoked.  The 
selfishness  of  some,  the  obstinacy  of  others,  the 
pride  of  our  neighbor,  the  heedlessness  of  our 
children,  and  the  unfaithfulness  of  our  depend- 
ents, tire  our  patience,  and  disturb  our  self-pos- 
session ;  while  bodily  infirmity  and  disordered 
nerves  magnify  insignificant  inconveniences  into 
serious  evils,  and  irritate  to  peevishness  and  dis- 
content the  temper  which  duty  calls  to  cheerful- 
ness and  submission.  Some  are  blessed  with  i 
native  quietness  of  temperament  which  hardly 
feels  these  hourly  vexations.  But  of  some  they 
form  the  great  trial  and  peculiar  cross  ;  they  can 
bear  any  thing  better.  And  to  all  persons  they 
constitute  an  exposure  full  of  hazard,  and  demand- 
ing cautious  vigilance.  The  very  spirit  and  es- 
sential traits  of  the  Christian  character  require 
watchfulness  against  them,  and  imply  conquest 
over  them.  The  humility,  meekness,  forbearance, 
gentleness,  and  love  of  peace  ;  the  long-suffering, 
the  patience,  the  serenity,  which  form  so  lovely 
a  combination,  which  portray  a  character  that  no 
one  can  fail  to  admire  and  love  ; — these  are  to  be 
maintained  only  by  much  and  persevering  watch- 
fulness. 


131 

AVithout  this,  the  most  equitable  disposition  by 
uature  may  become  irritable  and  unhappy.  With 
it,  under  the  authority  and  guidance  of  Christian 
faith,  the  most  unfortunate  natural  temper  is  sub- 
dued to  the  gentleness  of  the  lamb.  Without  it, 
the  internal  condition  of  man  is  restless,  rebelli- 
ous, full  of  wretchedness,  having  no  peace  in  it- 
self, and  enjoying  nothing  around.  With  it,  the 
aspect  of  the  world  becomes  changed  ;  every  thing 
is  bearable  if  not  pleasant-;  the  sweet  light  which 
beams  within,  shines  on  all  without,  making  pleas- 
ant the  aspect  of  all  men,  and  smoothing  the 
roughnesses  of  all  affairs.  Who  does  not  know 
how  much  the  events  of  life  take  their  hue  from 
the  state  of  the  disposition  ?  To  the  proud,  sus- 
picious, and  jealous,  every  man  seems  an  intrud- 
er, every  gesture  an  insult,  and  every  event  a 
cause  of  vexation  and  wrath.  To  the  self-govern- 
ed and  amiable,  every  thing  is  tolerable,  and  he 
feels  nothing  of  the  inconveniences  which  make 
the  misery  of  the  other.  One's  happiness,  there- 
fore, as  well  as  duty,  requires  this  control  of  the 
disposition.  And  when  the  Saviour  pronounced 
his  benediction  on  the  pure,  peaceful,  humble- 
minded,  and  meek,  he  taught,  not  only  the  great 
requisite  of  his  spiritual  kingdom,  but  the  great 
secret  of  human  felicity. 

When  the  frame  of  your  mind  is  thus  a  constant 
care,  you  will  find  little  difficulty  in  the  control 


13^ 

of  the  appetites.  These  things  are  connected  to- 
gether ;  and  an  ascendency  over  the  former  being 
secured,  the  subjection  of  the  latter  easily  follows. 
But  take  good  heed  that  it  does  follow.  Do  not  be 
thoughtless  about  it,  because  you  fancy  that  it  will 
of  course  accompany  a  regulated  mind.  Other- 
wise it  is  here  that  corruption  may  begin.  The 
enemy  will  enter  at  any  place,  however  improba- 
ble, which  shall  be  left  unguarded.  And  it  only 
needs  that  the  body  become  disordered  through 
the  immoderate  indulgence  of  the  appetites,  to 
raise  a  rebellion  throughout  the  whole  moral  sys- 
tem ;  or  to  speak  more  plainly,  this  indulgence 
will  create  cloudiness  of  mind,  indisposition  to 
thought,  activity,  and  duty,  irritability  of  temper, 
sluggishness  of  devotional  feeling,  and  at  length  a 
general  spiritual  lethargy.  There  can  be  little 
doubt,  that  much  of  our  dulness  of  apprehension, 
and  deadness  of  feeling,  on  spiritual  topics,  as 
well  as  our  strange  sensibility  to  minor  trials,  is 
owing  to  a  derangement  of  the  animal  economy, 
which  is  again  owing  to  want  of  moderation  in 
gratifying  our  animal  desires.  Hence  there  was 
some  reason  in  the  abstinence  and  fastings  of  re- 
ligious men  in  ancient  times ;  and  if  we  valued 
sufficiently,  what  they  perhaps  valued  supersti- 
tiously, — serenity  and  brightness  of  mind,  an 
equal  temper,  and  a  perpetual  aptitude  for  spirit- 
ual contemplation ;  we  should  imitate  them  more. 


133 

if  not  in  their  fastings,  yet  certainly  in  their  tem- 
perance. At  any  rate,  '  let  your  moderation  be 
known  unto  all  men.'  For  temperance  is  not  only 
the  observance  of  an  express  injunction,  but  is  es- 
sential to  that  quietness  and  self-control  which 
should  mark  the  religious  character. 

The  next  exercise  of  self-discipline  will  be  in 
Conversation.  Conversation,  while  it  is  a  chief 
source  of  improvement  and  pleasure,  is  also  a 
scene  of  peculiar  trial,  and  the  occasion  of  much 
sin.  One  might  suppose  that  few  persons  ever 
dream  that  they  are  accountable  for  what  passes 
in  conversation,  although  there  is  no  point  of  or- 
dinary life  which  Jesus  and  the  Apostles  have 
more  frequently  and  sternly  put  under  the  con- 
trol of  religious  principle.  Their  language  is 
strikingly  urgent  on  this  head  ;  and  yet,  so  little 
scrupulousness  is  there  among  men,  even  religi- 
ous men,  that  it  would  seem  as  if  they  felt  ashamed 
to  be  careful  in  their  talk.  A  thoroughly  well- 
governed  speech  is  so  rare,  that  we  still  say  in 
the  words  of  James,  '  If  any  man  offend  not  in 
word,  the  same  is  a  perfect  man. ' 

Do  not  allow  yourself  to  be  off  your  guard  in 
this  respect.  Make  it  a  part  of  your  business,  by 
a  cautious  prudence,  to  have  your  speech  consist- 
ent with  the  rest  of  your  character.  Do  not  flatter 
yourself  that  your  thoughts  are  under  due  con- 
trol, your  desires  properly  regulated,  or  your  dis- 
N 


134 

positions  subject  as  they  should  be  to  Christian 
principle,  if  your  intercourse  with  others  consists 
mainly  of  frivolous  gossip,  impertinent  anecdotes, 
speculations  on  the  character  and  affairs  of  your 
neighbours,  the  repetition  of  former  conversations, 
or  a  discussion  of  the  current  petty  scandal  of  so- 
ciety. Much  less  if  you  allow  yourself  in  care- 
less exaggeration  on  all  these  points,  and  that 
grievous  inattention  to  exact  truth  which  is  apt 
to  attend  the  statements  of  those  whose  conversa- 
tion is  made  up  of  these  materials.  Give  no  coun- 
tenance to  this  lamentable  departure  from  charity 
and  veracity,  which,  it  is  mortifying  to  observe, 
commonly  marks  the  e very-day  gossip  of  the 
world.  Let  precision  in  every  statement  dis- 
tinguish what  you  say,  remembering  that  a  little 
lie  or  a  little  uncharitabieness,  is  no  better  than 
a  little  theft.  Be  slow  to  speak  those  reports  to 
smother's  disadvantage,  which  find  so  ready  a 
circulation  and  are  so  eagerly  believed,  though 
every  day's  experience  shows  us  that  a  large  pro- 
portion of  them  are  unfounded  and  false.  In  a 
word,  be  convinced  that  levity,  uncharitabieness, 
and  falsehood,  are  as  truly  immoral  and  irreligi- 
ous in  the  common  intercourse  of  life,  as  on  its 
more  solemn  occasions ;  that  idle  and  injurious 
words  make  a  part  of  man's  responsible  character, 
as  really  as  blasphemy  and  idolatry  ;  and  that  '  if 
any  man  seem  to  be  religious,  and  bridle  not  hi* 
tongue,  that  man's  religion  is  vain. ' 


135 

*  A  word  spoken  in  season,  how  good  it  is ' 
Why  should  you  not  do  all  in  your  power  to  ele- 
vate the  tone  of  conversation,  and  render  the  in- 
tercourse of  man  with  man  more  rational  and 
profitable  ?  Let  your  example  of  cheerful,  inno- 
cent, blameless  words,  in  which  neither  folly 
nor  austerity  shall  find  place,  exhibit  the  upright- 
ness and  purity  of  a  mind,  controlled  by  habitual 
principle,  and  be  a  recommendation  of  the  religi- 
on you  profess.  Let  the  authority  of  that  faith  to 
which  you  support  every  other  department  of 
your  character,  be  extended  to  those  moments, 
not  the  least  important,  in  which  you  exercise  the 
peculiar  capacity  of  a  rational  being  in  the  inter- 
change of  thought.  Never  let  it  be  said  of  your 
tongue,  which  Watts  has  truly  called  *  the  glory 
of  our  frame, '  that  with  it  you  bless  God,  and  at 
the  same  time  make  its  habitual  carelessness  a 
curse  to  men,  who  are  formed  in  the  similitude 
of  God. 

The  influence  of  the  principle  which  rules  with- 
in, should  thus  be  seen  in  all  your  deportment 
and  intercourse,  on  every  occasion  and  in  every 
relation.  Your  outward  life  should  be  but  the 
manifestation  and  expression  of  the  temper  which 
prevails  within,  the  acting-out  of  the  sentiments 
which  abide  there ;  so  that  all  who  see  you  may 
understand,  without  your  saying  it  in  words,  how 
supreme  with  you  is  the  authority  of  conscience, 


136 

how  reverent  your  attacliment  to  truth,  how  sa- 
cred your  adherence  to  duty,  how  full  of  good- 
will to  men,  and  how  devoutly  submissive  to  God, 
the  habitual  tenor  of  your  mind.  Your  spontane- 
ous, unconstrained  action,  flowing  without  effort 
from  your  feelings  amid  the  events  of  every  day, 
should  be  the  unavoidable  expression  of  a  spirit 
imbued  with  high  and  heaven-ward  desires ;  so 
that,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Apostles,  those  who  saw 
them,  *  took  knowledge  of  them  that  they  had 
been  with  Jesus, '  it  may  in  like  manner  be  ob- 
vious with  regard  to  yourself.  And  this  may  be 
without  any  obtrusive  display  on  your  part,  with- 
out asking  for  observation,  without  either  saying 
or  hinting,  *  Come,  see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord.  » 
The  reign  of  a  good  principle  in  tlie  soul  carries 
its  own  evidence  in  the  life,  just  as  that  of  a  good 
government  is  visible  on  the  face  of  society.  A 
man  of  a  disinterested  and  pious  mind,  bears  the 
signature  of  it  in  his  whole  deportment.  His 
Lord's  mark  is  on  his  forehead.  We  may  say  of 
his  inward  principle,  which  an  Apostle  has  called 
*  Christ  formed  within  us, '  as  was  said  of  Christ 
himself  during  his  beneficent  ministry  ; — It  *  can- 
not be  hid. '  There  is  an  atmosphere  of  excellence 
about  such  a  man,  which  gives  savour  of  his  good- 
ness to  all  who  approach,  and  through  which  the 
internal  light  of  his  soul  beams  out  upon  all  ob- 
servers.    Consequently,  if  you  allow  yourself  in  a 


187 

deportment  inconsistent  with  Christian  upright- 
ness, propriety,  and  charity,  you  are  guilty  of 
bringing  contradiction  and  disgrace  on  the  prin- 
ciples which  you  profess  ;  you  expose  yourself  to 
the  charge  of  hypocritically  maintaining  truths  to 
which  you  do  not  conform  yourself.  You  dis- 
honor your  religion  by  causing  it  to  appear  une-* 
qual  to  that  dominion  over  the  human  character 
which  it  claims  to  exert.  All  men  know  that  if 
•  the  salvation  reigned  within, '  it  would  regulate 
the  movements  of  the  life  as  surely  as  the  inter- 
nal motions  of  the  watch  are  indicated  on  its  face  ; 
if  the  hands  point  wrong,  they  know,  without 
looking  further,  that  there  is  disorder  within. 
That  disorder  they  will  attribute  either  to  the  in- 
capacity of  the  principle,  or  to  your  unfaithful- 
ness in  applying  it.  But  what  is  of  far  greater 
importance,  the  holy  and  unerring  judgment  of 
God  will  ascribe  it  to  the  single  cause  of  your 
own  unfaithfulness,  and  for  all  your  wanderings 
from  Christian  constancy,  and  all  the  consequent 
dishonor  to  the  Christian  name,  you  must  bear 
the  shame  and  reproach  in  the  final  day  of  account. 
You  perceive  how  urgent  is  the  call  for  per- 
petual watchfulne«^  and  rigid  self-discipline.  It 
is  not  easy,  with  m.uch  intentional  guard  over 
yourself,  to  keep  the  spirit  habitually  right  in  this 
giddy  and  tempting  world  ;  and  it  is  equally  diffi- 
cult to  maintain  a  perfect  coincidence  between  the 
N  2 


138 

pi inciple  within  and  the  deportment  of  daily  life. 
Oftentimes,  in  the  emergencies  and  hurry  of  busi- 
ness, pleasure,  and  society,  where  many  things 
concur  to  drown  the  voice  of  the  spirit  within,  we 
find  the  lower   propensities  and  affections  of  our 
nature  gaining  an  ascendency,  and  the  law  in  our 
members  rising  in  rebellion    against  the  law  in 
our  mind.     *  The  things  that  we  would,   we  do 
not,   and  the  things  that  we  would  not,   those  we 
do ' ;  and  sense  and  passion  triumph  for  the  mo- 
ment over  reason  and  faith.     *  The  flesh  lusteth 
against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh, 
and  these  are  contrary  the  one  to  the  other. '  And 
how  shall  we  gain  the  victory  in  this  perpetual 
contest?  *  Through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,'  says 
the  Apostle ;  and  the  means  thereto  are  found  in 
his  injunction,  *  Watch  and  pray,   that  ye  enter 
not  into  temptation. '     Vigilance  over  every  hour 
and  in  every  engagement,  carrying  into  them  the 
shie  Id  of  faith  and  the  whole  armor  of  God  ;  and 
prayer,  without  ceasing,  that  your  soul  may  be 
strong  to  wield  them  ; — these  will   secure  to  you 
the  victory.     Sometimes  you  will  find  yourself  in 
perplexities  and  straits,  sometimes  faultering  and 
irresolute  ;  but  never  forsaken  or  cast  down,  never 
exposed  to   temptation  which  you  are  unable  to 
bear,   or  from  which  there  is  no  way  of  escape. 
You    may  *  do   all   things  through    Christ   who 
strengtheneth  you. ' 


1S9 

1  have  thus  spoken  of  that  religious  discipline 
of  daily  life,  in  which  the  Christian  character  is 
formed  and  tried.  It  will  be  sullicient  to  add  in 
conclusion,  that  your  great  concern  must  be  with 
two  things, — your  principles,  and  your  habits. 

First,  you  must  constantly  have  an  eye  to  your 
principles.  Take  care  that  they  be  kept  pure, 
and  that  you  abide  by  them.  They  have  been  well 
compared  to  the  compass  of  the  ship,  on  which  if 
the  helmsman  keeps  a  faithful  eye,  and  resolutely 
steers  by  it  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  winds  and 
waves,  he  will  find  the  way  to  his  port ;  but  by 
heedless  inattention  to  it  he  is  sure  to  go  astray, 
and  be  blown  whither  he  would  not.  Be  assured 
that  it  is  only  by  adherence  to  principle,  in  reso- 
lute defiance  of  inclination,  opposition,  present 
interest,  and  worldly  solicitation,  that  you  can  en- 
sure the  steady  progress  of  your  soul,  and  its  final 
arrival  in  heaven.  Neglect  it,  and  you  are  at  the 
mercy  of  circumstances,  tossed  helpless  on  the 
waters  of  chance,  exposed  to  the  bufi'etings  of 
temptation  without  the  pow  er  of  resistance,  and  a 
sure  prey  of  the  destroyer.  You  must  find  your 
safety  in  the  strength  of  your  principle  ;  and  that 
strength  lies  in  the  original  power  of  conscience, 
and  the  added  authority  of  the  divine  word.  Here- 
in is  the  *  still  small  voice '  of  heaven  ;  and  he 
that  will  *  cover  his  face '  from  the  world  and  obe- 
diently listen  to  it,  may  become  morally  om- 
nipotent. 


140 

Secondly,  have  an  eye  to  your  habits.      xVdd 
to  the  authority  of  principle  the  vigor  and  stead- 
fastness of  confirmed  habit,    and  your  religious 
character  becomes  almost  impregnable  to  assault. 
It  is  in  no   danger  of  overthrow,  except  from  the 
most  cunning  assailants  in  a  season  of  your  most 
culpable  negligence.     What  wisdom  and  kind- 
ness has  the   Creator  displayed  in  our  constitu- 
tion, that   we  are  able  to  rear  around  our  virtue 
the  strong  bulwark  of  habit !   It  is  a  defence  of 
the    weakest    spirit   against    the    strongest  trial. 
Through  the  pov/er  of  habits  early  formed,  how 
many  have  stood  in  exposed  places,  and  been  un- 
aflected    by   solicitations  to   sin,  beneath  which 
others  have  fallen,  who  trusted  to  their  good  pur- 
poses, but  had   never  confirmed  and  invigorated 
them  in  action.  How  often,  for  example,  has  the 
young  man  from  a  retired  situation, — educated  in 
the  bosom  of  a  virtuous  family,  and  under  the  eye 
of  a  watchful  father,  thence  sent  forth  to  the  new 
scenes  of  a  city  life  under  the  protection  of  good 
principles  and  a  sincere  purpose  to  do  well, — 
been  found  weak  and  wanting  in  the  exposure,  and 
been  carried  away  headlong  by  the  tide  of  tempta- 
tion, because  his  early  habits  were  suited  only  for 
seclusion,  and  his  principles  were  guarded  by  none 
which  could  secure  them  against  the  novel  assaults 
that  were  made  upon  them.     While  on  the  other 
hand,  young  men  brought  up  in  the  midst  of  these 


U1 

solicitations  to  sio,  with  far  less  inculcation  of 
principle,  are  oftentimes  enabled,  through  the 
mere  strength  which  habit  imparts,  to  resist  them 
all,  and  live  in  the  midst  of  them  as  if  they  were 
not. 

It  cannot  be  necessary  to  multiply  examples. 
You  well  know  what  a  slave  man  is  to  his  habitu- 
al indulgences,  and  how  the  customary  routine  of 
his  life,  and  methods  of  employment  tyrannize 
over  him,  and  how  frequently  one  strives  in  vain 
to  free  himself  from  their  dominion.  The  old 
proverb  is  every  day  verified  before  you,  of  the 
skin  of  the  Ethiopian  and  the  spots  of  the  leopard. 
But,  if  thus  powerful  for  evil,  habit  is  no  less 
powerful  for  good.  If,  in  some  cases  it  be  strong- 
er than  principle,  and  defy  all  the  expostulations 
of  religion,  even  when  the  miserable  man  is  con- 
vinced -that  his  safety  lies  in  breaking  from  it ; 
then,  when  enlisted  as  the  ally  of  principle,  when 
coupled  with  faith,  and  made  the  fellow-worker 
of  piety,  how  unspeakable  may  be  its  aid  toward 
the  security  and  permanence  of  virtue. 

Take  heed,  therefore,  to  your  habits.  Allow 
yourself  to  form  none  but  such  as  are  innocent, 
and  such  as  may  help  your  efforts  to  do  well.  In 
the  arrangement  of  your  business,  in  the  methods 
of  your  household  and  family,  in  the  disposal  of 
your  time,  in  the  choice,  seasons,  and  mode  of 
your  recreation,   in  your  love  of  company,  and 


142 

your  selection  of  books, — in  these  preserve  a  sim- 
ple and  blameless  taste.  Do  not  allow  any  of  them 
to  be  such  as  shall  offer  an  obstacle  to  sei^ious 
thought,  and  induce  a  state  of  feeling  indisposed 
to  religious  exercises.  Especially  do  not  allow 
them  so  to  enter  the  frame  and  texture  of  your 
life,  that  every  effort  of  virtue  and  devotion  shall 
be  a  pitched  battle  vrith  some  cherished  inclina- 
tion, or  sturdy  habit.  This  is  to  increase  most 
unwisely  and  needlessly  the  trials  and  perils  of  a 
religious  course.  It  is  to  raise  up  for  yourself 
obstacles  and  difficulties,  beyond  those  which  pro- 
perly belong  to  your  situation.  Rather,  there- 
fore, arrange  every  thing  in  your  customary  pur- 
suits and  indulgences,  to  favor  the  grand  end  of 
your  being  ;  so  that  every  act  of  piety  and  faith 
shall  be  coincident  with  it ;  so  that  little  or  no 
effort  shall  be  required  to  maintain  the  steady  or- 
der of  daily  duty ;  and  instead  of  an  opposition,  a 
struggle,  a  contest,  whenever  principle  asserts  its 
claims,  you  shall  find  the  ready  consent  and  hearty 
co-operation  of  all  the  habitual  preferences,  tastes, 
and  occupations  of  your  life.  He  in  whom  this 
is  so,  is  the  happy  man.  He  is  the  consistent  man. 
He  is  the  man  to  be  congratulated,  to  be  admired, 
to  be  imitated.  Universal  harmony  reigns  within 
him  ;  no  oppositions,  no  jarring  contentions  mar 
his  peace.  With  him  the  flesh  and  the  spirit  are 
no  longer  contrary  the  one  to  the  other.  His  duty 


143 

and  bis  inclination  are  all  one.  There  is  no  dis- 
pute between  wbat  be  ought  to  do,  and  what  be 
wishes  to  do.  But  with  one  consenting  voice, 
heart  and  life  move  on  harmoniously,  accustomed 
to  and  loving  the  same  things.  To  him  the  yoke 
is  indeed  easy  and  the  burden  light.  To  him 
heaven  is  already  begun  ;  and  when  be  is  wel- 
comed at  last  to  the  joy  of  bis  Lord,  it  will  be  to 
a  joy  which  bis  regulated  spirit  has  already  tasted 
in  the  labors  and  pleasures  of  obedience  below. 


END 


T.  B.  -WRIGHT     PRINTEK,  SWIF^T  8  OOU  RT,  CASTLE  STREET, 
LIVEEPOOt. 


DATE    DUE 

-,>PH9^ra!^'^ 

1 

GAYLORD 

PRINTED  INU.S  A 

PrincetdlT  Thfologicil  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  01001   3946 


